There and Back

On Friday July 20^th Jack and I left at 1:00 p.m. and headed east through Wyoming (after Jack’s last day of a summer space camp program and last minute haircuts that I had procrastinated scheduling). I was worried about where we’d stay that night. I was hoping we’d get to Cheyenne, but checked online that morning and couldn’t find an available hotel room (Frontier Days was just starting). So I called Roger from the road and he did some research for us. He booked us into a room in Laramie at a hotel with a great swimming pool that we enjoyed after a long afternoon in the car!

The next morning we got up early, planning to get all the way to Des Moines for the night after stopping to visit friends in Omaha. It turns out that two of my good friends—Sara from Omaha who I’ve known since I was twelve and who now lives in Florida, and Wade who I know from college and who now lives in Manhatten—were both going to be in Omaha for the weekend!

We ended up spending the night in Omaha instead of Des Moines. Jack totally bonded with Sara’s two boys. Her younger son, Richard, who is going into third grade just like our Jack, said that he was so happy to know Jack because “he lives in the same world I do.” We’ve already started plotting other joint vacations with them.

On Sunday the 22^nd, we got up early but didn’t take off until 10:00 because the boys were having so much fun together. We stopped at Wade’s hotel in downtown Omaha for a short visit with him and his partner Jay. Then back on the interstate!

We got to the lake just before sunset and had a wonderful swim. Just when we got back to the cottage, Mom, Dad and my sister Linda arrived from the airport.

Three blissful weeks at the lake that I will write about later . . .

Last Saturday we packed up the car and headed west through Minnesota to Mitchell, South Dakota (home of the Corn Palace) where we shared a hotel with many, many bikers heading home after the annual rally in Sturgis.

On Sunday we visited an old prairie sod home, where Jack made friends with all of the chickens living there.

We drove through the Badlands, where we especially enjoyed the prairie dogs (there really is a prairie dog in the middle of this picture!).

We stopped at Mt. Rushmore (I am totally smitten with the Black Hills).

And then we high-tailed it to Devil's Tower in northwestern Wyoming before the sun set. I should've been a bit more careful about the high-tailing—it resulted in a speeding ticket just after entering the park (40 in a 25 mile an hour zone, $100 even). From now on all major purchases in our household will be measured by whether they cost more or less than a speeding ticket at Devil's Tower.

We bedded down for the night in Gillette, Wyoming. Jack and I headed to the pool for an evening swim and were totally overwhelmed by a family with six children who were completely out of control shoving each other in, doing cannonballs in the hot tub and otherwise wreaking havoc. We left the pool area before they did. I hope they all survived.

On Monday we drove west to Cody via Sheridan, choosing our route based on the words "closed during winter" on our atlas. Wow, was that ever worth it. The mountains we traveled through were spectacular!

In Cody we discovered that the east entrance of Yellowstone was closed due to wild fire, so we had to drive to the northeast entrance of the park. While it added nearly 75 miles to our trip, the silver lining was that we drove into Montana, boosting Jack's official state visit tally to 25. It also added extra time—there was a huge line of cars and campers trying to get into the park. But again, a silver lining—I finally got to talk to a couple of bikers who had been to the rally in Sturgis and who were in line ahead of us.

A very, very quick (though obedient to the speed limit) drive through Yellowstone. But we did take the time to stop at the upper falls of the Yellowstone River, visit the mud volcanoes and see a mama bear and four cubs!


Just before midnight we snuck into my aunt and uncle’s house in Jackson Hole and had a great night’s sleep. In the morning we visited with them and drove to Teton National Park to see what we’d missed driving through in the dark the night before.

We were lucky enough to see two moose and to ride on the ferry that crosses the Snake River.

The five hour drive home from Jackson seemed to take forever, but we made it!

I'm Back!

I am back in the world of Internet access, tv, bills to pay, and lawns to mow. It feels good to be home and "productive" again after Jack and I (and Roger who joined us for the last week) had a fabulous nearly month-long adventure!

We took three days to drive almost 1,500 miles (a stop at a hotel in Laramie, then with good friends in Omaha) to my family's cottage on Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. There we spent almost three full weeks swimming, hiking along the shore path, playing tennis, sailing, riding wave runners, tubing, eating ice cream, hanging out with some of our favorite relatives and making new friends.

I'll be posting pictures soon!

Out of Time

Bad time management this week! I'm out of time before I lose our Internet connection for a few weeks. I should be back online in mid-August. Will report on Chile then!

The Pollinator

One of my very favorite things to do is to connect people--with ideas, with information, with books, and especially with other people. A couple of my friends even dubbed me The Pollinator because it's such a compulsion.

The other day, for example, my friend Linda was lamenting the fact that her daughter, Shelley, who will be living in their basement with her husband while she's in grad school, wanted her to paint the walls in the basement red. "Aagh!" Linda said. "Almost any color but red!"

I immediately thought of my friend Virlie, who finished her basement a few years ago and had it painted red. And it looks fabulous! So I called up Virlie and asked her if we could drop by to see it. Linda left with the can of leftover paint to try it out. Her basement walls are now red.

I take full credit, and I believe Shelley owes me one!

Last week I had an amazing time at the BYU Books for Young Readers conference. One of the authors I was especially glad to meet was Newbery honor author Suzanne Fisher Staples, who spoke about her experiences as a war correspondent in Afghanistan in the late seventies.

Someone in the audience asked her how we might help Afghanistan move forward, and the first thing Suzanne suggested was to go to the Turquoise Mountain Foundation, which I mentioned in my report on Afghanistan! I almost made a donation to the foundation when I was doing my research, thinking that would add a valuable dimension to my project, but had second thoughts about using my credit card to donate to an organization I really don't know much about. No second thoughts now--they'll be getting at least a little something from me. A valuable connection made.

The theme of Suzanne's presentation--and a key reason she writes--was the importance of knowing peoples' stories as we strive for a more humane world. We're more likely to get along with people when we see their faces, learn about their lives and get to know their loved ones.

As she talked, I thought about my friend Laura, who is taking a sabbatical from the English department at Utah Valley State College to spend nine months in Jordan, recording the stories of Iraqi women refugees there.

I think Laura and Suzanne ought to know one another. And I've got both their e-mail addresses!

Fast Forward

This is a picture of Jack and his good friend Gracie dressed up as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger one Halloween. I'm pretty sure they're four years old in this picture.

Jack and I are still plugging along on our Harry Potter book marathon, determined to finish book five before seeing the movie and to finish book six so we can read book seven after it comes out (Roger's got first dibs though).

Last night we got to the part in Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix where Cho Chang kisses Harry Potter under the mistletoe.

While we were reading, I thought about how Gracie--who moved away when she and Jack were in kindergarten--called Jack up yesterday afternoon. They spent at least half an hour on the phone.

Jack gets a special look in his eye when Grace comes up in conversation. So I was relieved when I asked Jack if he knew why people hang mistletoe at Christmastime and he answered, "when they want to make people run away."

Estonia

Õnne Pärl, who I "met" through her blog while I was researching Afghanistan visited my blog and left a comment. Cool! And I am behind on my report about Estonia, which was inspired by Õnne. I've actually already moved on to researching Chile, chosen because we are reading an Isabelle Allende novel for my next book club meeting.

But first, my Estonia report, which I will begin by saying that I've put Estonia on my official "I want to visit this country before I die" list.

The other day I was talking with one of favorite people, author Ann Cannon, who told me she'd once spent a day in Tallinn, Estonia's capital. She echoed my surpise that Estonia's culture is quite nordic. For some random reason, we'd both made the assumption that Estonia would be more slavic. My heart, with my Scandinavian blood pumping through it, quickens at the thought of another country I can feel connected to on a primal level.

Photo by Andrey Grinyov

It seems fitting that I was researching Estonia the same week that we were celebrating our independence here in the U.S. Estonians have never stopped fighting for their independence, even through some of their darkest years. They learned to take advantage of the fact that more than half of Estonia is forested, providing them with great cover and enabling them to keep occupying forces on their toes with strategic guerilla strikes against them.

Estonia actually celebrates its hard-won independence twice a year. Every February 24 they celebrate Independence Day, the anniversary of the declaration founding the Republic of Estonia in 1918. After the signing of the declaration, the Estonians successfully fought a two-year War of Liberation against Soviet Russia.

Every August 20 since 1991, Estonians celebrate the Day of Restoration of Independence, which came about with the collapse of the Soviet Union.

There still exists a bit of unease due to the fact that a third of the population is Russian, a result of so many years of Soviet occupation. The lack of cultural integration is reflected in the school system. According to the Estonian U.S. Embassy's website, 503 comprehensive schools are conducted in Estonian, 80 in Russian, 26 are bilingual Estonian and Russian (there are also a couple of English and Finnish schools).

I get the impression that people enjoy peace despite cultural divides, and that things only heat up over specific events, like the relocation of a Soviet war memorial earlier this month.

But the country has definitely been moving forward! As an architecture junkie, I was especially excited to see this forward momentum reflected in cutting edge urban renewal projects.

Photo by Joao Paiva

Last, but absolutely not least as my soul always longs to be near the water, Estonia has more than 1,200 natural lakes and more than 1,500 islands along its coastline!

Photo by George Rumpler

When can I book my flight?

My Life Has a Soundtrack

If you've got the volume on your computer on, you'll notice that my blog now has a soundtrack (and wouldn't it be cool if life really did have a soundtrack?).

The player is set to shuffle, so you should hear random selections whenever you log on. If you don't want to hear the music (like maybe you're already listening to some of your own favorite songs), just hit the pause button on the player just below my profile to the right.

Whenever I find a song I really like, I'm going to add it to the play list. And if you like any of the songs I have on my playlist, you can follow links to download them to your own computer or mp3 player.

PS: I take no credit for all of the typos in the titles of the songs and the names of the artists. Maybe I'll figure out if I can fix them someday.

Which Way Is Up?

Every once in a while, life sort of turns on its head. Not necessarily because of anything dramatic, but because of slight changes that make everything seem a bit off kilter.

Like after weeks and weeks of waking up when we please having to set an alarm clock for Jack's 8:00 a.m. departure to a school space camp program that started this morning. It will run for two weeks and will apparently include making an edible solar system!

And when I drove to pick them up in a borrowed truck (our Wrangler is going in for repairs this week), I could barely make out the mountains across the valley for all of the smoke from the state's largest wildfire ever, burning about 100 miles south of us.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of Diane Rehm Show podcasts, pulling from the archives. Last night after Jack went to sleep I found a 2002 interview with Thomas Friedman about his then new book Longitudes and Attitudes. The interview was conducted shortly before the U.S. invaded Iraq, when popular opinion wasn't yet sold on the idea. He articulated with such clarity so many of the issues that we are now facing. I will never, never, never understand why we invaded Iraq. And it feels like we're in a thick cloud of smoke, our vision obscured, rendering us incapable of finding our way back out again.

Maybe my life will turn on its head once more and when the alarm goes off tomorrow morning I'll wake up and find we're back in 2002 with another chance to prevent the war.

Damn linear time!

Let the Professionals Handle It

I went with my friend Rebekah to get my very first professional pedicure the other night. I'm totally sold on having someone who knows what they're doing take care of my feet for me! I think I can justify doing this once or twice every sandal season.

Maybe I have pretty toes after all!

High Adventure

Last week we had a fabulous day trip to the High Uintas. We spent hours on the flat rocks of the Upper Provo River having a picnic and wading in the shallow water. We hiked on the trail around Mirror Lake. We scrambled on the Provo River Falls. Perfect weather. Perfect company. And except for a few scrapes and bug bites, a perfect day!

Afghanistan

Welcome to my first country report, which will basically consist of random facts that I found interesting in my research. No dry historical accounts here!

I've been reading and learning about Afghanistan this week. I chose Afghanistan because it came first alphabetically, but I will not be going alphabetically. I will be selecting countries to study as the spirit moves me.

So, Afghanistan. As I searched for information I felt very compelled to find personal stories, and I also felt myself responding to anything that added color to the stereotypical pictures we often have in our heads of gray, dusty, unyielding landscape.


In addition to news and encyclopedia articles, I've been reading The Bookseller of Kabul and I've discovered a couple of blogs, including the blog of an Estonian photographer who is living in Kabul while her husband works there and the blog of an Afghan interpreter for the U.S. Army.

Here are some tidbits that have stuck with me:

• Afghanistan is the place to find lapis lazuli. Jack, a budding geologist, was excited to learn that. He's got a special place in his heart for lapis lazuli.
• By law, of the 102 members of the Upper House of the National Assembly, at least 17 must be women. And in 2005, 68 women were elected to the 249 member Lower House!
• The tourist trap area of Kabul is on Chicken Street.
• More than half of Afghans are under 18.

One of the heartbreaking, somehow symbolic remnants of so many years of war and unrest are all of the land mines still buried in the earth, rendering whole valleys unliveable. I read in a 2007 UNICEF press release that they provided "training for 50,000 primary school teachers with a 10-day refresher course on language arts, pedagogy and landmine awareness." How wretched to have to make landmine awareness an educational priority!

In The Bookseller of Kabul, author Asne Seierstad refers to the land mines buried in the Shomali Plain north of Kabul, “Over the death traps the ditches are full of wild, dark red, short-stemmed tulips. But the flowers must be admired at a distance. Picking them means risking blowing off an arm or a leg.”

What always astounds me when learning about people who have suffered war and oppression is how they adjust, so quickly create a sense of normalcy, and squeeze as much living as they can out of life.

The spirit of Afghanistan is bold and colorful, not bleak and hopeless.



P.S. I stole the pictures that I included in this post from Õnne Pärl, the Estonian photographer. One of the projects she chronicles in her blog is photographing an architectural restoration project in Kabul spearheaded by the Turquoise Mountain Foundation. In her honor, I will be studying Estonia in the coming week.

Meeting Julia

Yesterday I got to meet one of my favorite authors at The King's English bookstore. Julia Glass who wrote National Book Award winner Three Junes, was there to read from her her second novel, The Whole World Over, which is now out in paperback. I'm going to save it for our vacation to Lake Geneva in a few weeks. Ooh, it'll be a book to be savored!

I was so happy to be driving up to Salt Lake City to meet her. I'd just found out the day before that she actually grew up maybe 20 minutes from where I grew up in Massachusetts. I had also listened to a fabulous local radio interview with her, in which she talked about how important it was to her to see the ocean every day.

I don't usually idolize people or get all excited to meet them, but I confess I was a bit giddy! She seems like the kind of person I would so like to be friends with, to live next door to.

So as I'm driving past Ikea, one of my favorite old songs comes on the radio (Da Da Da by Trio. I was an early fan--I actually own it on vinyl!). Then all of a sudden I'm passing one of my favorite cars in the world--a mini cooper, pepper white with a black roof. In my mind the planets were totally aligned for me!


I got to the bookstore early to browse and chat with some of my friends there, including Shelley who used to work with us at the Read Leaf.

And they introduced me to Julia Glass before the reading started. She was just what I expected-- warm and intelligent, charming and funny.

But I felt like I was in junior high--hoping to make an impression on her so that she'd want to be my friend, too. Ah, well, authors meet so many people on tour. At least I have her books for company!

Weighty Issues

I keep wanting to be ready to write about this very personal issue, and I finally realize that I just need to do it. I will never be ready, but maybe writing about it today will help me on my way. A leap of faith, perhaps.

I am always struggling with my weight. Well, more accurately, I mostly ignore my weight and from time to time struggle with it. I believe that if I was actually always struggling, I'd have gained power over it by now.

Several times in my life I have focused very well on exercising regularly and eating healthfully, and I have enjoyed the fruits of my efforts. Then little by little I fall into habits that are not so good for me and the weight creeps back on.

I'm currently about 20 pounds below my all-time high, and except for a bit of weight loss and regain here and there, I've managed to stay at least 20 pounds below my all-time high in 1995, which I hit after several long, mismanaged years of corporate life.

But I'd like to lose 40-50 pounds from here.

There. I've said it. I'll report back.

Digging Deeper

As a followup to a comment in my last entry, Agitation, that "we've become a culture that expects simple solutions to everything and prefers sound bites to complexity and nuance," I confess that I am often part of the problem.

People who are acquainted with me probably think I'm quite politically aware. People who really know me are more likely to know that I'm generally politically aware, but that I'm often short on specifics.

I generally know about things like the trouble in Iran, Darfur and Gaza, President Bush's veto of funding for stem cell research and our lack of progress on the immigration issue, Salt Lake mayor Rocky Anderson's efforts to make city government greener, etc. But I'm pretty sure I could not engage in deep, meaningful discussion about any of these issues.

Like many people (if they'd only admit it), the things I do know have pretty much come to me by way of sound bites. (And frankly it scares me that there are plenty of people who spend a whole lot less time paying attention to the world around us than I do who have far more entrenched opinions about things than I do!)

So I hereby pledge to dig more deeply.

I'm going to listen to more in-depth interviews, read whole newspaper articles rather than just skimming headlines, and read entire books on subjects like the Middle East. I might even take notes.

Each week I'm going to focus in depth on one country. I plan to visit the websites for Unicef and Infoplease (I've added the links to my side bar) for an overview of history, politics and culture and any humanitarian issues facing the country. I'll also spend time reading any current news articles I can find and looking for photos online. Initially I was going to focus on one country a day but quickly realized that I'd never get out of the soundbite mentality that way.

Maybe one day, I'll not only be able to name every single African, South American, Eastern European, Asian, Middle Eastern country on a map (something I'm ashamed to say I can't do today), but I'll know something about the unique history and cultures of each.

(An aside: as I write this I realize how totally biased my childhood education was--by the time I finished sixth grade, I could--and still can--easily name every Western European country and I had a fairly clear sense of each. And the only other countries I really knew anything about were countries where the US had fought wars or that someone in my family had visited.)

Agitation

Two of my favorite radio shows (which I most often listen to as podcasts) have included interviews this week about the war in Iraq that have renewed my agitation. We're just digging deeper and deeper holes for ourselves!

The other day Diane Rehm interviewed Dina Rasor, author of Betraying our Troops: The Destructive Results of Privatizing War, who discussed the dangers involved in relying so heavily on private contractors to wage our military actions. Cynic that I am, I've just assumed companies like KBR have padded their expense reports as they bill us for services rendered. But my naive self was shocked to hear reports of human trafficking of cheap labor, employees who are not under the control of the military walking off the job at critical moments, refusing to provide vital services due to payment disputes (which makes sense in times of peace, but, hello, we're in a war here!). Our military is basically at the mercy of private companies, and we should all be angry as hell!

This morning (while I put a second coat of paint on our Adirondack chairs, which was also agitating!) I listened to Radio West, produced by KUER here in Salt Lake City. Doug Fabrizio interviewed General Tony Zinni, author of The Battle for Peace. His view is basically that we invaded Iraq and have subsequently mismanaged the war as a result of an utter lack of well thought out strategy that should take into account culture, history and an understanding of human nature. We have failed as a nation to figure out how best to participate in the world since the end of the cold war. We've become a culture that expects simple solutions to everything and prefers sound bites to complexity and nuance.

As I listened to these interviews, I realized that I am truly a product of my time. My world view is very much informed by the fact that I came of age in the late seventies and earned my degrees in international relations and political science in the eighties.

Much of what I learned and discussed in classes and with friends during those years was a direct result of our national debriefing of the Vietnam era and the civil rights movement. Lessons learned had started to crystalize: (1) You can't just export democracy. By definition it has to be a grass roots movement that people understand and embrace on a personal level. (2) You can't change people's hearts and make them stop hating simply by passing laws. And (3) we should be extremely suspicious of the military-industrial complex, in which revenue inevitably trumps morality.

Why, why, why don't we ever seem to learn from our past?

Country Living

Saturday night I was outside painting our Adirondack chairs. This effort was not, by the way, meant to fulfull any of my creative yearnings. Painting chairs like that is a matter of sheer endurance. I'm psyching myself up for putting on the second coat later today.

Anyway, I had the radio on and decided to tune it to a country music station just to shake things up. I don't listen to much country music, but some of my friends do, so KBULL 93 it was.

One song stood out. I don't know who was singing, or what the name of the song was, but it was obviously meant to romance a girl. My favorite line? "I want to search you for tics."

Creating

My urge to create is slowly blossoming again after a long wintering over. So much of our book store business was about creating atmosphere and relationships, building something tangible and reflecting our aesthetics and values. Even figuring out how to keep track of all the bits of information we needed to keep track of required creativity.

When we closed the store, my creative side went dormant--definitely not by any conscious or deliberate choice on my part. In retrospect, I think it may have been a bit of a defense mechanism. I'd poured so much of myself into the store for so long and now it doesn't even exist. The whole experience has made me very tentative about putting my soul into something new.

I'm trying to nurture these new yearnings and to figure out what direction they might take me. I fall asleep imagining what sorts of projects I might like to try. I've become addicted to listening to podcast interviews and reading blogs written by artists and musicians. Twice in the past few weeks I've visited art museums. I think I might take guitar lessons, learn how to use Roger's new camera and, gulp, figure out how to thread the sewing machine I haven't used in many years.

As I move forward in this, I'm finding that the awakening of my creativity is a sort of spiritual awakening. I believe that our human desire to create comes from the part of us that is divine. As children of God, the ultimate creator, doesn't it makes sense that it would be in our nature?

Sunny Days

An afternoon at the pool. Bike rides to the park. Hikes up the canyon. Chatting with neighbors until the sun sets. Fireworks. Late nights with friends. Walking home in the dark with a lantern. Waking up without an alarm clock, curtains blowing with the cool morning breeze.

Summer is in full swing and I am choosing to embrace it.

Rainy Days

The cold (in the 40s!) and rainy weather arrived yesterday and continues today (though not as cold and rainy).

Although it was very chilly, it cleared up enough yesterday evening to go on a few rides at Springville's Art City Days carnival. Jack hooked up with friends Johnny and Benny, who didn't like as many rides as Jack did. Benny hates heights and Johnny can't do rides that go up and down fast. The only ride that gave Jack the willies was the Ring of Fire, and that was only because there wasn't a line so the ride operator made it go three times as long and kept pausing them upside down at the top of the loop. They all agreed that their favorite ride was the Starship--they're shoved up against the wall with cetrifugal force as it spins.

This morning Jack and his friend Rex had plans to go to the Fun-a-Rama (the city sets up huge inflatable slides and things at one of the parks for Art City Days), but it got rained out. Rex went off to the movies with his family instead and Jack spent the morning building very intricate Lego models of the three challenges in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

We've been playing game after game of Uno waiting for Rex to come over, and he has just arrived. Yay!

Tonight we're heading out to find a new bike helmet for Jack. He starts cub scouts tomorrow morning and will be learning all about bikes and bike safety in preparation for a big bike ride at an upcoming den meeting.

Even though we've had to wear socks and hoodies instead of sandals and short sleeves, summer is in full swing!

I Made It!

My mother-in-law and I left Jack and Grandpa playing happily and drove up to the new Ikea store south of Salt Lake City today. We had a very pleasant time browsing the store and lunching on Swedish meatballs and red potatoes in the cafeteria.

I made it out of the store for under $100. Here are a few of the highlights:

• Duvet covers for Roger and me. One of our secrets to a peaceful marriage, inspired by our good friends Scott and Carolyn, is that we each have our own twin size duvets so we never fight over blankets. Several years ago my friend Wendy and I spent a night at the Four Seasons hotel in Boston (a birthday present from her husband) and at night they made up the beds with all white cotton linens, including duvets with white covers. So that's what we've had at home since then. I was so pleased to find solid white covers with some visual interest. You can't see the pattern on the photo at the Ikea website, but every inch or so they've tucked the fabric with a straight seam across the width of it. So it has lines, but it's still solid white.
• A cool red cardboard box to store Jack's papers and projects from school (click here for an account of recent related trauma). I actually found a box that is slightly longer than the link to the Ikea website shows (21 3/4" instead of 17 3/4") so it can accommodate more odd sized projects.
• An alarm clock for Roger, who is seriously alarm clock impaired. Really, he has at least three different alarm clocks, all of which are unreliable. The cool thing about this alarm clock is that we can record personalized messages for him to wake up to.
  

Jack's Brother

It was such a joy to finally meet Jack's half-brother, an adorable 10-month-old almost toddler now (pictured here with his mom, Jack's birth mom). What a happy, beautiful child!

I'm trying to sort through all kinds of feelings. Not surprisingly, it was one thing to deal with a theoretical baby who almost joined our family last summer (click here for more info), and it is now something else to deal with a real baby that we've held and fed and laughed with.

How amazing it would have been to have him in our family. It would have been a very, very good thing. But I am also thrilled that he has been such a bright spot in his mom's life, and it is clear that they are thriving together. (BTW, she is no longer with his father, who is leaving for Iraq this week with his National Guard unit.)

What I know for sure is that Jack's three siblings hold a very special place in my heart (click here for pics of Jack with his two older sisters). I imagine I feel so strongly about them because I love Jack so much. They are always welcome in our home, and I hope Jack develops a good relationship with all three of them through the years. Maybe Roger and I can be like an aunt and uncle to them.

Baptism Day

Jack's big day today! In our church, children aren't baptized until they are eight and it's clearly presented to them as a choice they make. Jack has been looking forward to this day for a while, and it has been a happy time for him.

Also in the tradition of our church, Jack's dad had the privilege of baptizing him, confirming him a member of the church and giving him the gift of the Holy Ghost. I had the privilege of speaking at the service about what it means to have the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Lots of special people were able to share the day with him, including:

• Nana, Gramps and Aunt Linda who all flew out from Massachusetts
• Grandma and Grandpa
  
• Aunt Carol and Uncle Greg
• Cousins Anne and her baby Hyrum, Jenny and her husband Kyle, Evan, Bethany and Sarah
• Good friends from our neighborhood, best friend from school Rex and his mom, Erica, and best friend of all time Gracie and her mom, Diana
• Jack's birthmom and his baby half-brother (who is about 10 months old) who drove up from New Mexico

Here are pictures of Jack and Grace and Jack and his half-brother (who has the same spark in his eyes that Jack has!):

We Are What We Own?

We read Pale Horse, Pale Rider by Katherine Anne Porter for book club the other night. It includes three novellas, one of which is about a relationship between Miranda, a journalist, and Adam, a soldier on leave just before being shipped overseas.

Someone in the group brought up the following passage that I've been chewing on for the past couple of days:

He had showed her snapshots of himself at the wheel of his roadster; of himself sailing a boat, looking very free and windblown, all angles, hauling on the ropes. . . . Miranda knew he was trying to tell her what kind of person he was when he had his machinery with him. She felt she knew pretty well what kind of person he was, and would have liked to tell him that if he thought he had left himself at home in a boat or an automobile, he was much mistaken.

What is it about us humans? We're always getting our identities entangled with our physical stuff. I know that I have spent the better part of the past year trying to unravel myself from my identity as a bookstore owner and from my daily routine of chatting with customers, mining for treasures to order in and share, and keeping the back office from spinning out of control.

Who on earth am I without my happy little bookstore? Intellectually I know that I didn't leave myself behind when we closed up shop, but spiritually and emotionally there are many days I'm not so sure.

Busy

It's amazing how quickly my life goes from zero to sixty. Two weeks ago I was living a life of leisure. Jack was in school, and I could procrastinate chores to my heart's content.

Now Jack is out of school, we're having house guests three weekends in a row (which I love, but which means I need to pay a bit more attention to housekeeping), and we've got oodles of family events including birthday parties for both Roger's dad and mine and Jack's baptism this coming Saturday.

Yesterday I had to scramble to get a book finished for book club with Jack jumping on top of me because he never hooked up with friends. I took breaks from reading to play Uno with him and to take him out for milkshakes. Then I stayed out with book club friends until nearly midnight.

Today I've been trying to focus on a proofreading project for Mom (a 140-page genealogy called The Pierponts of Roxbury, Massachusetts). I took breaks from working to do laundry and mow the lawn.

I'd better get back to it!

A Visit from Sarah

We've just had a fabulous weekend with my cousin Sarah, who is in Utah doing field research with some of her students. She's a geophysics professor at the University of South Florida, and they are here mostly studying volcanic formations in the San Rafael Swell a few hours south of us.

It was fun to hear about her research, but it was more fun to just hang out with her. Sarah is a few years older than me, and I've looked up to her as long as I can remember. We don't see each other very often, but when we do, we just fall into this great, comfortable relationship. Despite the fact that we've always lived at least a thousand miles apart and usually more, I've got so many good memories of experiences we've shared and the conversations we've had.

Lots and lots of summers at Lake Geneva--swimming, sailing, making up plays, watching marathon slide shows of trips our grandmother took all over the world. Traveling in Europe together when I was 17 and she was spending her junior year in Munich--visiting Dachau, hiking for miles along the coast of Wales and in the mountains of Switzerland, hitching a ride with a crazy Scotsman and his wife, lots of museums, trains and beer gardens.

Meeting up in Seaside, Florida, with our kids and on the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Hanging out with her in Boston whenever I was home visiting my family and she was studying at MIT. Crashing for the night on the boat she and her family lived on when she was teaching at William and Mary in Virginia and Roger and I were on a year-long runaway adventure in our red Jeep.

Celebrating when she and her husband adopted their two children, and relying on her wisdom and experience as we adopted our Jack. Both envying and being inspired by her passion and tenacity as she kept herself in fabulous shape with lots of long distance biking and running, expertly sewed her own clothes in high school (in contrast, I spent most of my efforts at my mother's old, old sewing machine cursing under my breath every time it jammed), learned to speak German fluently, earned her Ph.D. and then subsequently earned tenure.

I think, though, that one of the reasons I love hanging out with Sarah is that while all of her achievements are genuine, she is also very genuine. She's willing to share the frustrating and nerve wracking bits of her life with me.

I love knowing people that inspire me to be a better person. And not only do I know Sarah, I get to be related to her!

Am I Reading Him Right?

I can't be completely sure because he won't talk about it, but I actually think Jack is sad that today was his last day of school. When I picked him up at noon, he looked totally dejected and it took nearly an hour for him to perk up.

Every year one of our neighbors hosts an end-of-school bash (water balloons, games, etc.) on the last day of school. Jack didn't want to go and asked why they would have a party when some people are sad. He wouldn't actually say why he was sad, but we talked about how people often have mixed feelings about things.

All of a sudden Jack changed his mind and decided to go to the party after all. I am choosing to believe that maybe second grade wasn't all that bad.

Coexisting

I think Jack and I have had one of those pivotal moments that may scar him for life.

Last night he discovered that I haven't been keeping every single paper that he's brought home from school. (I figure he's brought home a ream's worth of paper representing all of the busy work he's been assigned over the course of the year, which is a whole other issue to blog about someday.)

As he descended deeper and deeper into a pit of despair over this ("Mom, my work means NOTHING to you. You threw it all in the GARBAGE! I won't remember ANYTHING I learned, and now I can't live my dream of becoming an engineer and designing stuff. Mom, you've destroyed my DREAMS!"), my guilt-o-meter was off the charts.

Now that we've recovered from our irrationality, I'm hoping that Jack and I can have a rational discussion about this fact: By nature I am a purger and he is a hoarder. Somehow we need to learn to respect these differences in one another and to coexist in peace.

I promise that when Jack starts third grade next year, I won't throw anything out without letting him know up front. But if ever one day Jack becomes a compulsive hoarder (you know, the kind they profile on 20/20), I believe that behavior can be traced back to May 2007.

Ikea Update

Ikea opens in two days, but I fear I will not be there for the grand opening. I am so not a crowd person, and I just saw on the news that people are already camping out in front of the store. Yikes! I'll get there soon, though!

Unwritten

As I was driving in our Jeep with the roof off at dusk last night on my way home from buying a bridal shower gift for our nephew's fiance one of my favorite songs came on the radio and I cranked it.

So I thought I'd invite you to crank it up and enjoy! Click here for Natasha Bedingfield's video of Unwritten on Youtube.

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Happy Birthday, Harry

Our Jack is now eight!

A few months ago, I panicked at the thought that Jack may yet again see a Harry Potter movie (#5) before reading the book. We read all sorts of novels together, but for some reason never got into the Harry Potter books. So we've been on a Harry Potter binge. We're now on #4. And Jack is transfixed.

Last week we made broomsticks (I even went to a craft store and used a glue gun!), this week we went all out with a Harry Potter birthday party. The kids played variations of quidditch with tennis balls and super balls, we had a Harry Potter cake, and we went on a neighborhood wide treasure hunt complete with marauder's maps and visits to Gringotts, Kings Cross Station, the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid's house and the whomping willow.

Harry, er Jack, is sure growing up to be a fine young man!

Goodbye Girls

Sure they're just characters on a tv show, but I'm sure going to miss the Gilmore Girls after watching the series finale last night. I didn't discover the show until last spring, and watching all of the reruns during the summer was a bright spot for me as we closed our business. Thanks for the good times, Lorelai and Rory!

Do Not Pass Go

I had the unique opportunity to visit our county jail the other night, including visiting with some women who are inmates there. I'm trying to figure out how and where to get involved in community literacy programs, and working with inmates is one of the options I'm seriously considering. Knowing how to read is power: if you can read, you can figure pretty much anything out. And being able to figure things out is an important part of turning your life around.

Many years ago I did an internship with our County Attorney's office and I was stunned to find out that 3 out of 4 of the crimes they prosecuted were drug related--using, selling, stealing to buy drugs, or inflicting some sort of harm due to being on drugs. Today, I'm sure that percentage is even higher. So many people are ending up in a place in their lives that they never intended.

The two women we talked with were very different from one another. One of them (heroin, one two-year-old child she's hardly seen) had pretty much given up on herself and laughed when she said she was sure she'd end up in jail again. The other (meth, five children she's relinquished rights to) had already been through giving up on herself and was clearly trying hard to get out of that mindset, to tap into some self respect.

I think about all of the stupid mistakes I make, and I think about how important it is to treat one another like human beings. To look people in the eye. To acknowledge that they aren't simply a sum of their mistakes. I want to be the kind of person who does that.

Two other random impressions from my visit to the jail: Inmates have a serious lack of personal space, and I wasn't too sure what to make of the fact that the residence halls were named after Utah ski resorts (is it meant to be hopeful or is it meant to remind inmates of where they can't be?).

PBS "The Mormons"

A four-hour Frontline/American Experience documentary about the Mormons debuted on PBS this week. Overall, I thought film maker Helen Whitney did an amazing job, weaving a complex and nuanced portrait of our faith.

Of course she had to address many of the controversies, misconceptions and missteps that are part of the church's history and lore. She tackled the tough stuff with intelligence and respect, and I appreciated that. The official reaction to the documentary of LDS church leaders, who participated freely with Whitney in her research, is overall positive.

Four hours of documentary about any religion can only scratch the surface. And I'm not sure it's really possible to understand anything as complex as religion from the outside looking in--in the same way, for example, that it's impossible to understand what it's like to be a part of a specific family without actually being a part of it. And just as with families, individual members of the church experience it differently.

Here are some of the things that I personally wished Whitney had been able to squeeze in those four hours.

While various LDS beliefs and practices were sprinkled throughout the documentary, I'm not sure a viewer unfamiliar with the church would end up with a concrete sense of what it's like to practice Mormonism or what our answers are to these fundamental questions: who we are, why we are here on earth, and what the heck is going to happen to us after we die. It would have been nice to have an overview of LDS beliefs and practices.

At its core, the LDS church is not actually a new or even American religion (culturally maybe, but doctrinally, no). We believe that the church is a restoration of the same church that Christ established during his life and ministry. The controversial idea we have that ours is the only "true" church refers to the reestablishment of the priesthood, which is the authority to act on Christ's behalf here on earth (to baptize, etc.). And to clarify, we do not believe that ours is the only church that teaches truths. Truth can be found in many places. We do believe that through revelation we have found more complete answers to spiritual questions. We also believe that there are many more things we don't know yet.

Lay ministry is mentioned, but I'm not sure the documentary really captured the way that at some point virtually all members--women, men and even small children--are called on to pray, speak and teach in church on Sundays and that we hold many different positions through the course of our lives. We practice full engagement in our faith, consecrating our time, talents and energy to lift each other up.

When the documentary focused on intellectualism and the church, I wish it had been clear that not only do we understand that intellectualism can be "dangerous" when it leaves faith behind, but that we also believe that faith should not leave thinking and reason behind. God wants us to learn everything we can about our world and the people in it, and that includes using scientific method to do it. We believe there are many ways of "knowing" and if we limit ourselves to our five senses and our earthbound logic, we'll never really get to all of the answers.

Several times the documentary mentioned the LDS focus on obedience, but didn't explore at all one of the most fundamental tenets of our faith--agency. Freedom to choose what we believe as individuals and to act accordingly, freedom from being compelled to follow. (That said, we are only human and social pressure to conform can feel weighty at times. But social pressure isn't part of the gospel.)

Our aspiration toward "perfect obedience" must be accomplished in the larger and essential context of agency. We are not meant to be sheep, though of course some church members are because for some it's just easier that way. We are meant to be very aware and deliberate in our obedience--to consciously choose it.

If we are confused or unsure or even offended by something we are asked to do or believe, the onus is on us as individuals to prayerfully find answers. Some church members rarely have issues; some church members spend their lives questioning and grappling; some church members leave because they do not find the answers they are looking for, and some of them later return as the light shifts for them.

We don't baptize children until they're 8 so that their baptism involves a conscious choice on their part. We take the sacrament each week to renew our baptismal commitment to follow Christ. And because it's all about progression, here on earth and after we die, it is quite possible for excommunicated members to be rebaptized (one dear member in our ward followed this path).

Jack's baptism is coming up, and I've had several talks with him about his choice to be baptized and about the fact that while we make him go to church now because he is a child, it is his reponsibility to decide what he thinks about it all and what he believes. It's an important part of his journey through life.

I think perhaps the most amazing thing about the LDS church is how it encourages and enables us to connect to the divine on a deeply personal level, reflecting the trust God has in us as his children. We are empowered as we are taught our responsibility to seek our own personal revelation of truth and to exercise our own faith, not simply to rely on the faith of others. With few exceptions, such as our sacrament prayers, our prayers both public and personal are not rote. And we are each individually engaged in the work of God. Roger, for example, not our bishop, will be baptizing Jack next month.

Oh, and one last thing. I wish Whitney had taken the opportunity to dispel the myth of magic underwear. While we wear special undergarments as a private, ongoing reminder of our commitment to follow Christ, we do not believe they are magic. We can't rely on them to stop a speeding bullet.

Penguins, Otter Pops and Icebergs

As the weather heats up, Jack's imagination has been entrenched in a world of ice and snow. He worked very hard on a written and oral report about penguins for his language arts class at school (he got a 50 out of 50 on the written report!).

He's completely obsessed with the sinking of the Titanic, particularly why it sunk and how it could have been designed differently to keep it from sinking. He announced the other day that if he doesn't grow up to be a Lego engineer, he wants to design ships.

And the other day, he and his friends spent the afternoon selling Otter Pops on the corner. After paying us for cost of goods sold and splitting the proceeds with his friends, Jack pocketed three dollars!

Fearless (Part 2)

I have several new heroes who are standing up for what they believe in.

One is Diane Bailey, the president of College Democrats at BYU, who organized the on-campus protest against Dick Cheney's visit (which happened yesterday, by the way). Here's an excerpt from a recent article in The Deseret News.

"The reason there wasn't (a sanctioned political campus protest) for more than 15 years is students assumed it was against school policy, which it's not," she said. "As soon as I heard Cheney was invited, within 10 minutes I was picking up the appropriate forms. The next day I submitted a two-page proposal so I could give it the time for planning and to go up the chain."

Still, she felt pressure not to embarrass an administration that surprised many by approving the protest, or the church to which she is faithful.

"I was so scared," Bailey said. "I threw up that morning."

Wow! I always admire people who go through with something even if it's scary enough to make them puke. (And as an aside, I'm so sad that the political and social climate is such that she'd be as scared as she was. When my hero Roger decided to run for a seat on the Utah County Commission a few years ago as a Democratic candidate, it was that same climate that led us to have serious discussions about possible repercussions for our bookstore. If anyone did decide to take their business elsewhere, they didn't tell us.)

Another hero of mine is my sister-in-law Chris, recently quoted in The Salt Lake Tribune in an article about a campaign that "scuttled a scheme to build an office building in This Is the Place Heritage Park." She stood her ground against big business to help preserve something she loves.

In the end, not even Ivory could stand up to the righteous indignation of people like Christine Graham, a pioneer re-enactor who endured the 1997 sesquicentennial wagon train that ended its journey at the park.

"We have watched with increasingly heavy hearts as park management weighed itself down with inappropriate and unsustainable development," she said with tears in her eyes. "Probably because it lacks expertise, the park tends to choose pricey 21st-century solutions when 19th century solutions would be much less expensive, far more appropriate, and more satisfying to visitors."

And last but not least, another hero is my nephew Drew Merrell, who voluntarily joined the Army after the war in Iraq started and who is currently serving there. He was recently quoted in a Washington Post article about the struggle to train Iraqi soldiers who aren't being given the tools they need to do their jobs (um, maybe that's a clue leaders both here and in Iraq should pick up on?).

[The Iraqi] soldiers came out with old, rusting AK-47 assault rifles and mismatched uniforms. One soldier wore baby blue running shoes with his beige camouflage gear. Some wore black masks so they wouldn't be recognized in the community. Another soldier tucked silver shears into his chest strap.

"This is one of the more squared-away units," Hill said.

"That's something," quipped Merrell, looking at the soldier with the shears. "The Iraqis are always ready to prune a good hedge."

Drew will be staying in Iraq longer than he expected due to the surge. I pray that he keeps that sense of humor.

Fearless (Part 1)

I'd like to believe that I've lived my life with integrity and that I've never been a hypocrite, but lately I've realized that I put very little effort into standing up for things that I believe in. That needs to change.

A few weeks ago, my friend Millicent called to see if I'd head up an effort to circulate a petition in our neighborhood about school vouchers. I had been working on a big project and hadn't been keeping up on the local news like I usually try to, so I wasn't sure exactly what she was talking about. I mean, I knew the state legislature had routinely been considering a voucher program for the past several years, but I did not know that they had actually passed legislation and that the petition drive was to get the voucher issue on the next election ballot in an attempt to override that legislation.

Generally, I am uncomfortable with petitions. I think people often sign them without really knowing what they are signing. So unless I'm passionate and well briefed about an issue, I'm unlikely to say yes to a request to head up a petition drive in my neighborhood. (I do like the new model of online petitions--people can sign them without feeling pressured to.)

Even though I probably would have turned her down, Millicent's call shook me up. I was embarrassed that I didn't know what she was talking about and that I hadn't really considered my position on school vouchers. But more significantly, I realized that I don't often act on my beliefs. If I was passionate and well briefed on the school voucher issue here in Utah, would I have actually done anything about it?

Well, let's take a look at my commitment to the environment for illumination. I truly believe that human beings are meant to be good stewards of the earth, but I'm not sure my track record reflects that.

Even though I've recycled paper and aluminum cans for years, I have yet to sign up for the not-so-new-anymore city curbside recycling that would allow us to recycle more. I also haven't gotten around to buying reusable grocery bags, nor did I say anything at the grocery store this morning when the bagger put just three oranges in a bag and nothing else. And the oranges were already in a plastic bag!

I'm an incompetent housekeeper who relies on the most potent chemicals I can find to get the grout in my shower clean. I was too lazy to find a more organic solution to lawn fertilizing and bug control this summer, so I finally said "yes, come spray" to the company we've used for the past several years (in my defense they called us relentlessly). And of course I cringed but remained silent when they came, sprayed, and then said to keep children off the lawn for at least 24 hours so it doesn't make them sick. Nevermind the issue of having such a large lawn here in the middle of the desert.

To my credit, Jack and I do have daily discussions about turning off the bathroom light when he's done. If I find it on, I make him come turn it off straightaway, even if he's in the middle of playing with friends. One day he'll develop the habit, won't he?

I hereby renew my commitment to live according to the dictates of my own conscience, even if it scares me.

Skipping the Party

This morning I woke up unable to face a baby shower for three of my neighbors, all of whom had (or, in one case, adopted) baby girls within a week of each other. I was planning to go, but am apparently having an emotionally unbalanced day, so I stayed home.

Over the past months I've been trying to face up to the fact that barring some sort of miracle, Jack will be an only child in our family. While he has half-siblings who are with his birth mom, he will not have anyone to commiserate with about all of the dysfunction Roger and I create in his life.

I have always been ambivalent about motherhood (though I must say that I’m not at all ambivalent about being Jack’s mom—that’s absolutely one of the best things in my life). Growing up I figured I’d have two or three children, and that being a mom would just be a natural part of my life. I didn’t stress about or fear becoming a parent, but I never had a sense of urgency about it either.

When it became fairly clear in my mid-thirties that I probably would never give birth to a child, Roger and I went through the process to adopt Jack. Ironically, Jack was born nine months after the agency approved our application. When Jack was a year old, we went through the process again, but years went by and we never got a call.

Throughout those years, we never made any herculean attempts to grow our family. No medical procedures, no international adoptions, no adopting older children or taking in foster kids. Nothing. We did not feel inclined or inspired to take those extra measures so we didn’t.

Then after Jack started school and Roger and I were firmly in our forties, we let our approval status lapse—in part because there were so many other couples in the pool for so few children and we knew they really hungered for them while we were ambivalent.

I’ve often thought the three of us make a fine family together, and I’ve only rarely yearned for another child despite the fact that I live plunk the middle of a culture that values and encourages large families.

But as I approach my 44^th birthday, I realize I’ve got a lot to sort through. Should I have fought my ambivalence and worked harder to have more children? Have I just been lazy and selfish? Aaagh, all of the regret and guilt tied up in that line of thinking!

Or has my ambivalence really been a blessing in disguise—a coping mechanism of some sort? I may well have gone through one herculean effort after another and still ended up with one child. Maybe my ambivalence is a result of knowing deep down inside that I would never really have any control over how many children we have. If I didn’t really care too much, my heart wouldn't break.

Where I think this may lead to in the end is succumbing to Jack’s pleas for a dog. And let me tell you, that’s a big, big leap for me!

My BYU

My alma mater, BYU, has been in the news this week—lots of furor over the fact that Dick Cheney is going to speak at commencement this month. I am very, very happy that BYU suspended its strict no demonstration policy to allow students to voice their opinions about his upcoming visit.

My personal opinion? I wish BYU would invite more high profile speakers with a wide range of political views. And I wish they hadn't invited such an ethically challenged person to speak at graduation. Commencement should be about the students who worked hard to earn their degrees and who are going out into the world, not about the speaker.

When I think about my time at BYU in the 80s, it didn’t seem so partisan. Or maybe as a native of predominantly Democratic Massachusetts attending college in predominantly Republican Utah, I just saw what I wanted to see.

But as a political science major I hung with as many College Democrats as College Republicans (I am a registered Independent so I felt comfortable floating freely among them all).

I had fabulous professors like Dr. Gary Bryner and Dr. Joe Black (click on link and scroll down until you get to his name). They pushed us to see thorny issues from all angles. I listened to well known national Democrats like Senator Joe Biden who came to speak on campus.

I worked on the annual Peace Symposium committee, and invited my Quaker grandmother to speak about her experiences traveling on a mission of peace to Nicaragua at the age of 80. The auditorium was packed with students who were concerned about US involvement there.

I watched my friend Becky get up exceptionally early for months to coordinate student volunteers serving breakfast at the community food and care coalition (I did help her a little, but not nearly enough). Inspired by her, I wrote bleeding heart articles for the Student Review, the alternative off campus student newspaper, and dreamed of making a difference the world.

Here in Utah I am quite left of center. As a US citizen I’m left of center, though not as dramatically. And I owe much of that to spending many happy formative years at BYU.

Snapshot

I've been distracted from my blog with a big writing project I've been working on, and am today recommitting myself to posting here on a more regular basis. I thought I'd mark the occasion with a snapshot of my current life--something I do in my personal journal from time to time, especially if I haven't written in a while.

Favorite recent Jack quote: "All of my favorite things are having a party in my heart."

Last out-of-town trip: A weekend with Roger and Jack in Moab a few weeks ago. We had fabulous weather and found two fun trails we've never been on.

Current exercise routine: I've become a complete yoga convert, and I'm trying to work up to running three miles in time for a 5k run at the end of May. Spring is here so that also means tennis!

Most persistent food craving: Pancakes made with a little bit of lemon juice and sugar.

Most dreadful thing hanging over my head: Getting our taxes done. I've got to focus on some data entry for the bookstore to bring the books up to date. I just don't want to do it!

Current volunteer projects: (1) Finishing up the last bit of work getting all of the books entered in the computer at Jack's school library and (2) Curating an art exhibit of original children's book illustrations at the Springville Museum of Art in 2008.

Current potential income producing projects: (1) Writing a proposal for a non-fiction book that will hopefully get the attention of a good agent and subsequently a good publisher, and (2) Getting inventory left from our bookstore listed online to sell.

Current job at church: Primary secretary (Primary is our Sunday School program for kids up to the age of 12).

Books I'm reading: Too many to list here. Seriously, I've got at least 30 books stacked near my bed. As a bookstore owner, I developed a bad habit of starting a new book before I've finished the last one and I haven't shaken the habit yet. But the book I've most recently had my nose in is Broken for You by Stephanie Kallos. I like it. And I'm planning to finish it before I read anything else.

Thing I'm most looking forward to: Leaves coming out. I am so, so ready for some green!

We've Got a Date

From the Deseret Morning News:

Shoppers, mark your calendars.

IKEA, the popular Swedish home furnishings retailer, announced Tuesday that work on its Draper store is on track and it will open for business at 9 a.m. May 23.

"We're excited. Our construction manager went there yesterday, and we got the final check-offs," said IKEA spokesman Joseph Roth. "We now control everything as part of our build-up process and there's no holding back."

The 310,000-square-foot Draper store, located along Pony Express Drive at the northwest corner of I-15 and Bangerter Highway, will include 10,000 items for sale, 50 different room displays, three complete model homes, a children's play area and a 300-seat restaurant.

IKEA broke ground on the store in April. The Draper IKEA is the company's first store in the Mountain West and its 30th in the United States.

"Due to the progress made during the fall and the snowy winter, we are confident the remaining construction milestones and interior build-up process will be complete by late May," Paul Janzen, IKEA Draper's store manager, said in a statement.

A Fish Story

3:30 a.m. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d get up and write down the following experience. Yesterday I read an article on guided imaging and how it can help you connect to subconscious thoughts. One exercise was to picture a place where you are very content, then see who emerges to talk with you.

This is a bit on the nutty side, but I swear this is what happened.

I imagined that I was sunbathing on the swimming raft at my grandmother’s house on a lake. Waves rocked the raft gently and the sun and breeze were in perfect balance so I wasn’t too hot or too chilly. I waited for my “advisor” to appear.

All of a sudden a fish poked its head out of the water.

“What to you have to tell me?” I asked.

“Dive in!” it answered cheerfully.

“But what if it’s too cold?”

“That’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”

“But what if I can’t swim?”

“What are you thinking? You’ve known how to swim longer than you can remember.”

I was a little freaked out by the fact that the fish kept answering me without missing a beat, so the conversation ended there. But it’s sure giving me some food for thought.

I’m going to read for a while and then head back to bed.

Definitions

A friend just emailed me the winners of the Washington Post's Mensa Invitational, which asks readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are some of my favorites:

Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize that it was your money to start with.

Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

Karmageddon: When everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, and then the Earth explodes and it's a serious bummer.

Decafalon: The grueling event of getting though the day consuming only things that are good for you.

Could My Head Actually Explode?

Oh, I thought I was starting to feel better the other day, but no such luck. I am slowly emerging from days of having one of the worst headaches I think I've ever had. I made Roger and Jack take me to the instacare on Saturday morning and they gave me lots of good things to help me get better.

Even now the Monday after, I can't look to my right or left without my head feeling like it might explode. So I avoid looking to the side. Just sitting here looking straight ahead, I feel pretty okay.

An entire week of my life has been spent doing nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing. I've been re-reading one of my all-time favorite novels, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, along with a copy of a collection of daily letters that he wrote to his editor while he was writing the book (Journal of a Novel).

One of my book clubs will be discussing East of Eden on Thursday, and I'm so looking forward to the discussion. It's the kind of book that makes a person think hard about human nature--what we're made of and what we're capable of. I need a good book group discussion quick, before my head explodes!

103.9 and 22 Below

Roger, Jack and I just had a great long weekend in San Diego, complete with a day at Legoland, a comfortable (though chilly) stay at a hotel on the beach in Del Mar, and a fun (though a bit slow due to a lack of wind) afternoon on an old sailing ship shooting cannons at other ships.

On the way home to Utah we watched the temperature plunge on the digital thermometer in our Jeep. The record low was 22 below, and that was at 7:30 p.m. We can only imagine how low parts of Utah got during the early morning hours.

I started feeling pretty cruddy on the drive home. Roger took good care of us and drove the entire 700 miles!

We got home about 9:00. I got Jack to bed while Roger unloaded the car. I got in my jammies, made a cup of hot chicken noodle soup and climbed in bed. In the middle of the night I woke up with a raging fever.

The last couple of days I've been living for my next dose of Advil. No other symptoms except a horrible headache. My fever is fairly under control, so I've switched to sinus medicine and that has helped to take the edge off.

So, so glad I didn't get sick while we were in San Diego. But wow, I'm ready to feel 100% again.