Word Dork

Mystery solved!

2012-01-12T21:34:00.001-08:00

"Dad, can I borrow your moose caller?"

Not our home

Remember that we live in a town house that shares walls on either side with the neighbors. It's a very lovely home and I'm very happy with it...except for the sharing walls part.

Our neighbors to the south are two very young boys. They look so young that I almost wonder if they're emancipated minors. I do know they're video game addicts, playing from about 7pm to

8am DAILY. I finally had a talk with them (after one particularly bad middle-of-the-night involving blaring music that ear-plugs just wouldn't mute...), gently asking them to wear head phones if they play video games or listen to music after 10pm. It worked! It's been quiet since

then and I feel like, instead of banging on the wall like I wanted to at 4 in the morning, I taught them how to be good neighbors. Which they have been since.

The neighbors to the north, however, are a different story. They're probably late 20's and have a toddler. I can hear the little girl yelling, "MOM!" from her bedroom after nap time every day. But I think it's cute. I can also hear her little play screams and occasional chatter (if we're in

adjoining rooms) and enjoy that.

One thing that has us stumped, however, is the incessant duck calls we hear coming from their apartment. Yes, I said Duck Calls. Seriously, we hear it for over an hour each day. It would be hilarious if it weren't so constant. Our thoughts travel along lines such as, "That baby must really think that's funny. But don't the adults get bored? Don't their lips get tired?! Can't they find some other way to entertain their daughter? Is she autistic? Is that the only thing that soothes her???"

Then tonight I walked along our shared porch and "happened" to see through a gap in their window blinds. On the TV was a paused video entitled something like "Fowl life..." with a guy in hunting gear demonstrating a duck call. The video was on pause but I could still hear the duck call. So my neighbor must be practicing his duck calls! I've seen him once or twice with hunting waders so he must be teaching himself different duck calls.

It's nice to have the mystery solved. But it's still annoying. Which brings me to my next question: Dad, can I borrow your moose caller? To quote Kasey: "How you yike DAT?!"

And that's all the news from Newlywedsville. We're doing extremely well and are very happy. We're both very thankful to have jobs that keep us busy, even if we only get two weekends a month off together. And we finally got our snow. Two weeks too late to have my first truly white Christmas, but whatever.

Manda had a little lamb...er...car...

2011-12-31T21:41:00.001-08:00

Daisy, on one of our many adventures together

On Christmas Eve, we went to the theater to see "Mission Impossible IV" (miss-able, if I do say so myself...). We also happened to be driving in my car. Rather, I was driving my car, K was the passenger, so he assumes no culpability in the following story. (Except for the fact that he is the proud owner of two undamaged elbows...but I get ahead of myself...)

We were in a mild rush as the movie was starting in 5 minutes but we knew there wouldn't be lines so it wasn't panic-time yet. It turns out the showtime we had picked wasn't playing at that theater, but the one directly around the corner. So we rushed back out the doors, still not too worried that we would be late since we had to drive all of 100 yards.

We were happily walking across the large parking lot, hand in hand, when I looked up to notice my car, Daisy, was not in the parking space where I left her. Rather, she was waiting patiently for us in the middle of the road 10 feet behind the parking space, as if to say, "I'm ready for you! Let's go on our next great adventure!"

My first thought (for only a split second) was, "Oh good, we're in a rush so how nice that the car is already pulled out and ready for us to go!"

Then my next immediate thought was, "Oh my gosh! My parking break isn't on and my car is rolling!!!" I started running, screaming, "My car!!!"

Sweet K was bewildered by my panic for quite a while. (It wasn't HIS car after all so he probably wasn't even looking for my silver Saturn.) It took him a moment to realize why his wife was screaming, "My car! My car!" and running away from him.

Luckily Daisy was not still rolling, but gently parked right in the middle of the parking lot road. Luckily I had pulled directly into the parking space so her wheels weren't turned so she just rolled straight back. Luckily she didn't scrape any of the cars as she went on her short, solo jaunt. Luckily her solo jaunt was short enough that she didn't continue to roll back and hit the cars behind her.

Luckily? Pshh. The Lord knows I'm too stupid to survive on my own so he makes up the difference since I really do try my best.

K's elbows play a part somewhat because the emergency break (which is important to engage every time I park since I drive a clutch) is off-center a little and encroaches into the passenger seat arm space. And if I jerk the e-break up without first alerting the passenger, it jams straight into their elbow. So this time I must have waited to engage the break and then forgotten. Usually this forgetting isn't a problem because the car begins to roll right away and I'm still in it with my foot only a fraction of an inch from the foot break.

Later that even, K forgot to lock his side of the car (an easy thing to do when you're used to a car with automatic locks). I asked him if he was really just keeping his door unlocked in case he had to run after my car and pull the e-brake while it was rolling away again. Recreating his own Mission Impossible moment, if you will.

The next day, while we were in his car, we looked up to see a silver Saturn, identical to my car, following us closely on the road. K said, "Oh look, your car decided to follow us again." Aww, how sweet.

Prayers with an anosmic are always interesting!

2011-12-28T08:23:00.000-08:00

During family prayer last week:

"Thank you for this beautiful holiday season and that we can enjoy it with all of our senses...er...most of our senses..."

I totally lost it when I heard that. And I still can't stop laughing about it everytime I think about it. I so love that he actually remembers that I can't smell!

We're still here!!!

2011-12-22T09:42:00.000-08:00

Don't worry, we're still alive and thriving! I just don't want to leave the fun and bother to write a post. And since I married someone with a much better camera (and eye) I haven't taken any pictures since October. So nothing good to post! Sorry...

Let not your heart be troubled

2011-10-14T23:29:00.001-07:00

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." John 14:27

10-day weather forecast

2011-10-12T09:36:00.000-07:00

Nine days, people! 9 days! Single digits! Next week! Close enough to be able to see the day on the 10-day weather forecast! Close enough to be able to say "Next Friday".

Counting down the days

2011-10-03T07:32:00.000-07:00

October 1st was a wonderful day for me. It meant that I no longer had to say "next month". Even though 3 weeks was shorter than a month, saying "next month" just made it seem farther away.

And my sister-in-law (with whom we will be sharing our anniversary, which I think it kinda cool) reminded me that I can now start counting down the days (which is exciting and scary all at once...do we have time to finish everything??? Have we forgotten anything???)

But this counting down the days thing presents a problem to my analytical mind. Do I count the day in which I am currently? Do I count the day of the wedding?

For example, since it's currently morning, I still have the whole day to wait through, so I should probably count today. But then do I not count the day of the wedding? Because the day I've been waiting for has arrived? Or do I count it because I really can't stop stressing until we're on the plane and gone and it is a day to be gotten through, however lovely that day will be. I should probably ask K about this...

I think I'm going to count today if it's before 5pm but not count the wedding day. Because that's the day that really matters. It may be somewhat stressful but it really is the day we've been waiting for.

So here's to

18 days!!!!

I need to redefine fun

2011-09-14T16:35:00.000-07:00

I found a notepad today that had a list on it from about 2008 (I'm guessing). I'm guessing it was an exercise in finding balance in my life because I had listed the things I needed to do in three categories: Work, School, and Fun.

Yes, Fun was a need because I'm so terrible at taking time to have fun.

Sadly, the things listed under the "Fun" category were:

Clean the fish tank
laundry
vacuum
rearrange room

I seriously need to learn how to have good, relaxing fun.

How Mormon is Mitt Romney?

2011-09-13T21:11:00.000-07:00

I don't know much about the 2012 presidential race and I know even less about Mitt Romney. But having a Mormon in the white house could be interesting. I ran across this article and highlighted my favorites. And you really probably have to be Mormon to find some of these funny. (All are from independent people on twitter, apparently. And I think it was instigated by some leader saying he didn't think Romney was Mormon enough. Interesting.)

Mitt is so Mormon he’ll make the income tax a flat 10% and collect fast offerings to fund Medicaid.

Mitt is so Mormon he’ll ask the Senate to “sustain” his appointees by manifesting with an upraised hand.

Mitt is so Mormon that his campaign “oppo” team has done all the other candidates’ genealogy.

Mitt is so Mormon he’ll choke up and weep during his inaugural address. And then say, “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.”

Mitt is so Mormon, he will actually hang the Constitution up by a thread, just so he can save it.

Mitt is so Mormon he’ll start the State of the Union with the words: “I wasn’t going to get up, but the Spirit just carried me up here.”

Mitt is so Mormon his campaign biography begins, “I, Willard, having been born of goodly parents.”

Mitt is so Mormon, he will ask members of Congress to go home and pray about his economic plan.

Mitt is so Mormon he’d ask the Elders Quorum to move him into the White House.

Mitt is so Mormon, he asks donors to stack chairs after fundraising dinners.

Mitt is so Mormon that his campaign slogan is “What do you know about Mitt Romney? Would you like to know more?”

Mitt is so Mormon he’d do an ad for the LDS Church: “I’m a husband, father, and leader of the free world. And I’m a Mormon.”

Mitt is so Mormon he isn’t as concerned about getting American youth jobs as he is about getting them married.

Mitt is so Mormon he’ll assign a friend to every new member of Congress.

Mitt is so Mormon that he’ll change the name of “Cabinet Meeting” to “Correlation Meeting.”

Mitt is so Mormon that if he got elected all of the White House Pyrex 9x13 pans would have a piece of masking tape on them with his name written in Sharpie.

Mitt is so Mormon that late last night he snuck out to put 5000 plastic forks in the lawn of Jon Huntsman. And after that, he heart attacked Rick Perry.

Mitt is so Mormon he’d ask the Chief Justice to use a quad at his inauguration.

Mitt is so Mormon, he will add the phrases “every fiber of my being” and “beyond a shadow of a doubt” to the presidential oath of office.

Non-covered services for health insurance

2011-07-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

Did I mention I work in the health insurance industry? Here are a few gems that I've learned are not covered by health insurance. (It varies by carrier...but check with your insurance provider before you plan on any of these...)

Felony, Riot, Insurrection

Horseback riding lessons

Illegal Activities (but just selected types of...)

Terrorism or Nuclear Release

War, related services

One plan will pay up to $1,500 for infertility treatments but then won't cover any resulting maternity costs.

Another carrier lists conditions for which you are automatically denied coverage. One such condition? Psycho-sexual killer. And pregnancy.

Things I'm learning about my new state

2011-07-16T10:23:00.001-07:00

Zip codes and city names are merely suggestions here. I know 4 towns that share a portion of a zip code. And one location who's address can be listed as being in 3 different towns. Confused? Yeah, me too. (I work in Ogden, South Ogden, and Washington Terrace...all at the same time!)

No CRV!!! Whoo hoo! In California, every time you buy something in a plastic, glass, or aluminum container (water, soda, etc.) you get charged a CRV fee. The idea is that when you take it to a recycling place, you'll get that CRV back. Except recycling is so wide-spread in California that no one bothers to take bottles to a facility, choosing instead to throw them in their recycling bin that gets picked up with the trash. So you never get any of that back, and that really throws off your budgeting when you buy a case of water bottles and, Surprise! There's an additional $2 in CRV fees added.

No one in Northern Utah recycles. It's not available to homes in at least Davis and Weber counties, that I know of. I never considered myself a tree-hugger recycling nut, but throwing away water bottles, the most obvious of recycling items, is hard. I carried around about 10 bottles in my car (making it look like a dumpster) for a couple weeks before I caved and trashed them. Sad.

Fry sauce is awesome.

When purchasing food inside a fast-food restaurant, they ask, "Is this to stay?" It took me almost a month to not have to stop everything, ask them to repeat themselves, and then when I finally actually understood what they were saying, to not burst into giggles. (Thanks, Dad...) For those of you still confused, in California (and everywhere else I've ever been) the question is "Is this for here or to go..."

The verb "to come" is not conjugated the same here as it is everywhere else. When telling a story in the past tense, one must say, "She come back from the store..." Not, "she came back from the store". You might occasionally here the correct conjugation, but the more intense and/or hilarious and/or ridiculous the story is meant to be, the more it is required to say "she come".

Policemen are really nice here. (I got pulled over my first week here because I thought the speed limit was 35 mph but was really 30mph.) They apparently don't ticket as often. Very gracious of them considering my California driver's license and plates. (And I'm being super careful considering those CA plates, because in Washington and Oregon, that's a magnet for tickets, just because.)

Obama is a bad word here. (I work in the health insurance industry and every time I explain an insurance plan quirk I get asked, "Is that because of Obama???" No, it's just because.)

Maternity coverage in the state of Utah is almost non-existent. And no, not because of Obama, but because Utah has the highest birth rate in the nation and the insurance companies can't afford to pay for everyone.

You might get paid a little less here in salary, but everything else is sooo much cheaper you actually end up earning more. (Gas is currently $3.37)

You can buy 85 octane here. And for some unknown reason I'm getting 34-37 mpg in my 11 year old Saturn. Low gas prices and better gas mileage?! Sign me up!

I have a lot of awesome family members in this state.

Sadly, you can't buy good strawberries in this state.

Winco, which carries the Western Family store brand, has almost as good Mint Chip ice cream as Thrifty's does. (Tears of joy on this one...)

Everyone has a "fruit room" and some pretty impressive food storage. I am very inspired, especially since it's common sense stuff you can use every day and rotate into your normal recipes. (The food storage I'd seen before was something you bought and never used...and probably wouldn't know how to use if you had to, making me discouraged.)

When a new person moves into a ward, they announce where they're living. "They just moved in to the old Johnson house." And since wards are no more than a mile across, everyone knows exactly where your address is.

Despite what I thought, temples are NOT located on every street corner. (Chapels are, though.) With the Ogden temple closed, we have to drive to south to Bountiful (40 minutes) or north to Logan (1 hour).

Drivers here are the most impatient, entitled people I've ever experienced. I've only witnessed one flipping-off but there's a LOT of tailing and cutting off. (I'm not the only one saying this...even Utahns say this.)

You always have to dial the area code (801 or 435) with a phone number, no matter if it's local or long distance. 801- used to be for the entire state. But then they introduced the 435 area code which does not coincide with a certain geographic area.

The weather here is AMAZING! I've been told that all this rain is uncommon for this time of year. But man these storms are beautiful! I love Weather with a capital W.

Words are pronounced differently, although I'm not sure how to categorize it. (But this is pretty much true whenever you go to a different geographic location...Washington pronounces "bag" as "baig", etc.) The town of Hooper is pronounced Huper. The "u" is sounded like the "u" in "put". Hurricane (the town) is pronounced "Hurr-ih-ken" with the emphasis on the Hurr. You don't prounounce the "t" in "Layton" either. But this one I already knew (and got praised for, randomly...)

That's it for now (that I can think of). I'll keep you posted!

Misguided bookclubbing?

2011-07-04T23:10:00.001-07:00

Last year my friend started a Steinbeck book club. We read one book, Torilla Flat, before I moved and the club dissolved. We had originally planned on "Reading Steinbeck. Eating Steinbeckian food. Going Steinbecky places." When we first started the book, my friend suggested we eat "paisano style". Here was my comment on that:

"You had mentioned eating paisano style after finishing the book. After a bit of reading, I realized this would involve stealing a chicken after sexing up some clueless women and then using what little money we had left to buy a gallon of wine or grappa and getting drunk for a day or two. How 'bout we just eat Mexican style instead?"

I think shortly after I moved (and when the group finished the book) they did indeed simply go out to Mexican food.

Life is good today

2011-06-27T21:35:00.001-07:00

"I got my toes in the water, toes in the sand...Life is good today."

This song was on the radio tonight as I was driving home and it pretty much fits the bill. My first day at my new job here in Northern Utah was awesome. The people are great and the lady training me has similar learning styles to me so that's a huge plus.

One of my business associates from my previous company used to call me "Amazing Amanda" because she (and her boss) always knew they could count on me to take care of everything they sent my way. So when my new boss called her for a reference, she told them this. When I arrived this morning there was a sign on the door that said, "Welcome Amazing Amanda!" I was really touched.

And then after work it was still about 95 degrees F so I wanted to go wade in a creek in the shade and green grass somewhere. We found a creek but the water was so cold that it hurt my feet. So I got out after only about 10 seconds. But it felt good for those 10 seconds!

I'm really thankful to have a full-time job again and to enjoy said job. And to be here with friends and family.

Firsts

2011-06-23T09:10:00.000-07:00

I like to make sure that I really absorb first time experiences in life. This month has been full of firsts:

1) Moved to Utah this past week to start a new job next week.

2) Encountered my first, wild rattlesnake.

3) Had Indian food for the first time and it was awesome!

4) Slept in a recliner in a hospital room at the bedside of a good friend who was hit by a car yesterday.

I hadn't planned on moving out here to Utah until this weekend, but felt prompted to come earlier. (And was really confused about feeling the need to come early since it didn't make sense.) And now I know why. So I could be here to take care of my friend that has taken care of me countless times before when we both lived in California. She has several broken bones but otherwise will heal.

So here's to many more firsts! May they (mostly) be enjoyable ones!

You can't learn everything from books

2011-05-23T01:47:00.000-07:00

Some things, you just have to hear.

I'm listening to an audio-book (so okay, yes, technically still a book...) and I just heard the narrator use the word truculent and was caught in my tracks. I thought, "What did he just say?" And then, "Oh wait, is that how you pronounce that word?"

See, I'd seen it a few times in books before, enough to know that it meant forceful or aggressive. But I thought it was pronounced "tru-sue-lent". Apparently it's pronounced "truck-you-lent". You can listen to it here.

Similarly, I read several of the Harry Potter books before the movies came out. And the boy, Seamus Finnegan, was always called "See-mus" in my head. Until I watched the movie a couple times and realized it's correctly pronounced "Shay-muhs". Huhn.

On a slightly related vein, I have a large vocabulary and can use all the words I know in sentences. But if you ask me to define them, I can't. They mean what they mean and I have a hard time using other words to define them. Because, well, despite the concept of synonyms, most words - in my opinion - do not have exact equals and therefore each has its own perfect situation in which to use it.

But I realized this is because I learned the words mostly by seeing them in use and discovered their meanings through context. And this has created some amusing situations. Well, amusing to me, anyway, when I finally learn the correct definition of a word...no one else has noticed because it all goes on silently in my head. I learned that with a lot of words I understand the general idea, and can use them in the correct context (thanks to rote memorization) but when I look up the actual definition, I'm surprised it's slightly off from what I thought it would be.

I can't give you any explicit examples of this. Just know that I amuse myself by picturing the little girl in my mind, with an overly-large book propped open on her lap, deriving her own meanings based on her limited life experiences.

Although in more recent years I have taken the time to actually look up words as I come across them. And I'm pleased to be seeing results. Occasionally I'll come across a word and now know what it means, but remember the first time I encountered that word and didn't know what it meant. (I used to write the definition of the word in the book and it's fun to re-read a book and realize I now know what that word means.)

It will be amusing to see what my vocabular-gains are in the future because sadly, I'm currently working with a dictionary that broke in half and I can't find the first half of the book. So if my vocabulary seems a bit heavy on words south of "Indonesia" you'll know why. (And yes, I could look it up online, but when I'm in bed reading, I don't want to turn my computer back on just to look up one word. Hence using half a book...)

I'm definitely a nerd...

2011-05-21T22:00:00.000-07:00

I'm a nerd. But not the cool kind. (Apparently nerdy has become the new cool?) I realized this recently when a friend and I spent over an hour calculating what our names meant in the hexidecimal system or with different numeral systems (such as base 26, using the alphabet as the positional system).

So I started thinking about what math means in my life. I mean, I spent 2 years of my life, 4 quarters of calculus, 3 quarters of physics, and 2 quarters of Linear Algebra on it. But I can't remember a darn thing about it. I tried to help a pre-calculus student take a simple limit and couldn't remember at all how to do it.

I'm still the queen of basic Algebra and boy do I love Algebra. My heart finds peace in solving algebraic equations, no joke. I feel the world is right and calm in the moments that I'm solving for y. (And despite most Algebra students claiming they'll never use "this stuff" ever again, I use it weekly, if not daily, especially when solving ratios.)

But I can't remember how to solve the Maclaurin series of the cosine of X, which might very well have been my favorite equation of all time. (It finally explained where in the universe those seemingly magical trig table numbers came from...)

But I do remember the ideas and images that all those years of studying math (and science) gave me. (Although I loathe to admit that Chemistry had any lasting effect on me...)

When I think of the Gospel, and eternal progression, and striving for perfection, I immediately see an alternating harmonic series graph in my head. For example, let's say I'm trying to learn to be more forgiving. At first I'm too forgiving and let people step all over me. So I learn from this and try a different way. But I swing too far in the other direction and then am not forgiving

enough. And I learn from this, and swing back towards being too forgiving, but not quite as much as before. And on and on I go until I approach perfection, but never quite reach it in this life.

...where the X-axis is perfection and the Y-axis is level of forgiveness...

Or chemistry. (Shudder...) A friend recently posted a quote and I got to wondering, how much energy does it take to make someone go from annoyed to angry? Because of course I was thinking there was a quantifiable amount, just as there is a quantifiable amount of energy that is required to kick an orbiting electron up from one level to the next.

And who could forget these moments where I understood a child's game using physics?

I don't know what it means or how it helps me, or if it helps at all! But I'm inclined to think that if math is what I use to understand the emotions of life, thank goodness I took so much math because emotions confuse the heck out of me!

It reminds me of Sheldon's "Friendship Algorithm" which actually was very accurate! (And very helpful for Aspies! "Sheldon, there is no algorithm for making friends!" "Hear him out. If he's really on to something we could open a booth at ComicCon and make a fortune!") See the clip here.

LOA = Least Objectionable Activity

You definitely know you're a nerd, though, when you correct the math in math jokes. The one below just annoys me to bits. HO^3 = Hooo (because the ^3 only cubes the O). If you wanted to get Ho Ho Ho, you should have used parenthesis. (H0)^3 = Ho ho ho.

Donate blood!

2011-05-20T19:36:00.001-07:00

In April I donated blood and was determined to be successful this time. (Up until then I've either passed out 50% of the time during the donation or been too anemic to donate...) It's too important and easy of a thing to do to let a little fear stop me from saving someone's life with such little effort on my part.

So I made sure to drink a lot of water for a few days prior to donating and then went with a friend to keep me calm. And I filled the bag in 4 and a half minutes! Wahoo!!!

I just got the following letter from the Red Cross and I thought I'd share it to encourage everyone else to try to donate if they can. (They think it's my first time, so they must not have records from 10 years ago when I donated a couple times in college...)

Thank you for giving blood through the American Red Cross. Your blood donation may have helped save up to three lives.

We'd like you to know that the people you helped save and their families and friends are so grateful for what you've done. People like Molly, 23, who suffers from leukemia and needs frequent transfusions. Or George, father of two teens, whose heart transplant surgery could never have happened without enough available blood.

You really have done something amazing. And now you can do something even more remarkable. Come back, and give blood again. You see, only 30% of first-time blood donors come back to give a second time. We need your help now more than ever. Frequently the blood supply is just 2 days away from running out. And every day in the United States, over 39,000 donations are needed.So we urge you to give regularly.

Has anything else you've done lately made you feel this good? Your current CMV-negative status should make you feel even more special. Cytomegalovirus (CMV) is usually a mild infection that causes no harm in healthy people. However, CMV can cause serious problems for some patients who need blood, particularly low-birth-weight infants and transplant patients. You should feel special that your CMV-negative blood can be provided to these types of patients with less risk.

Why not keep that feeling alive b giving blood again? You can help save the lives of even more people, like Susan, a 4-month-old baby, who already knows the pain of sickle cell disease.

Visit redcrossblood.org or call 1-800-RED CROSS (1-800-733-2767) for more information or to schedule your next donation appointment.

Beware of Pride by Ezra Taft Benson

2011-05-10T16:26:00.000-07:00

There are a few talks that the prophets and apostles have given over the years that deserve repeated, diligent study. This talk by President Ezra Taft Benson is one of them. And since I found myself looking it up the other day, I figured it couldn't hurt to re-post it here. Below is the talk, word for word. Or if you'd like a link to the article on LDS.org, here you go!

Beware of Pride

President Ezra Taft Benson

Ezra Taft Benson, “Beware of Pride,” Ensign, May 1989, 4

My beloved brethren and sisters, I rejoice to be with you in another glorious general conference of the Church. How grateful I am for the love, prayers, and service of the devoted members of the Church throughout the world.

May I commend you faithful Saints who are striving to flood the earth and your lives with the Book of Mormon. Not only must we move forward in a monumental manner more copies of the Book of Mormon, but we must move boldly forward into our own lives and throughout the earth more of its marvelous messages.

This sacred volume was written for us—for our day. Its scriptures are to be likened unto ourselves. (See 1 Ne. 19:23.)

The Doctrine and Covenants tells us that the Book of Mormon is the “record of a fallen people.” (D&C 20:9.) Why did they fall? This is one of the major messages of the Book of Mormon. Mormon gives the answer in the closing chapters of the book in these words: “Behold, the pride of this nation, or the people of the Nephites, hath proven their destruction.” (Moro. 8:27.) And then, lest we miss that momentous Book of Mormon message from that fallen people, the Lord warns us in the Doctrine and Covenants, “Beware of pride, lest ye become as the Nephites of old.” (D&C 38:39.)

I earnestly seek an interest in your faith and prayers as I strive to bring forth light on this Book of Mormon message—the sin of pride. This message has been weighing heavily on my soul for some time. I know the Lord wants this message delivered now.

In the premortal council, it was pride that felled Lucifer, “a son of the morning.” (2 Ne. 24:12–15; see also D&C 76:25–27; Moses 4:3.) At the end of this world, when God cleanses the earth by fire, the proud will be burned as stubble and the meek shall inherit the earth. (See 3 Ne. 12:5, 3 Ne. 25:1; D&C 29:9; JS—H 1:37; Mal. 4:1.)

Three times in the Doctrine and Covenants the Lord uses the phrase “beware of pride,” including a warning to the second elder of the Church, Oliver Cowdery, and to Emma Smith, the wife of the Prophet. (D&C 23:1; see also D&C 25:14; D&C 38:39.)

Pride is a very misunderstood sin, and many are sinning in ignorance. (See Mosiah 3:11; 3 Ne. 6:18.) In the scriptures there is no such thing as righteous pride—it is always considered a sin. Therefore, no matter how the world uses the term, we must understand how God uses the term so we can understand the language of holy writ and profit thereby. (See 2 Ne. 4:15; Mosiah 1:3–7; Alma 5:61.)

Most of us think of pride as self-centeredness, conceit, boastfulness, arrogance, or haughtiness. All of these are elements of the sin, but the heart, or core, is still missing.

The central feature of pride is enmity—enmity toward God and enmity toward our fellowmen. Enmity means “hatred toward, hostility to, or a state of opposition.” It is the power by which Satan wishes to reign over us.

Pride is essentially competitive in nature. We pit our will against God’s. When we direct our pride toward God, it is in the spirit of “my will and not thine be done.” As Paul said, they “seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ’s.” (Philip. 2:21.)

Our will in competition to God’s will allows desires, appetites, and passions to go unbridled. (See Alma 38:12; 3 Ne. 12:30.)

The proud cannot accept the authority of God giving direction to their lives. (See Hel. 12:6.) They pit their perceptions of truth against God’s great knowledge, their abilities versus God’s priesthood power, their accomplishments against His mighty works.

Our enmity toward God takes on many labels, such as rebellion, hard-heartedness, stiff-neckedness, unrepentant, puffed up, easily offended, and sign seekers. The proud wish God would agree with them. They aren’t interested in changing their opinions to agree with God’s.

Another major portion of this very prevalent sin of pride is enmity toward our fellowmen. We are tempted daily to elevate ourselves above others and diminish them. (See Hel. 6:17;D&C 58:41.)

The proud make every man their adversary by pitting their intellects, opinions, works, wealth, talents, or any other worldly measuring device against others. In the words of C. S. Lewis: “Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. … It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone.” (Mere Christianity, New York: Macmillan, 1952, pp. 109–10.)

In the pre-earthly council, Lucifer placed his proposal in competition with the Father’s plan as advocated by Jesus Christ. (See Moses 4:1–3.) He wished to be honored above all others. (See 2 Ne. 24:13.) In short, his prideful desire was to dethrone God. (See D&C 29:36; D&C 76:28.)

The scriptures abound with evidences of the severe consequences of the sin of pride to individuals, groups, cities, and nations. “Pride goeth before destruction.” (Prov. 16:18.) It destroyed the Nephite nation and the city of Sodom. (See Moro. 8:27; Ezek. 16:49–50.)

It was through pride that Christ was crucified. The Pharisees were wroth because Jesus claimed to be the Son of God, which was a threat to their position, and so they plotted His death. (See John 11:53.)

Saul became an enemy to David through pride. He was jealous because the crowds of Israelite women were singing that “Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” (1 Sam. 18:6–8.)

The proud stand more in fear of men’s judgment than of God’s judgment. (See D&C 3:6–7; D&C 30:1–2; D&C 60:2.) “What will men think of me?” weighs heavier than “What will God think of me?”

King Noah was about to free the prophet Abinadi, but an appeal to his pride by his wicked priests sent Abinadi to the flames. (See Mosiah 17:11–12.) Herod sorrowed at the request of his wife to behead John the Baptist. But his prideful desire to look good to “them which sat with him at meat” caused him to kill John. (Matt. 14:9; see also Mark 6:26.)

Fear of men’s judgment manifests itself in competition for men’s approval. The proud love “the praise of men more than the praise of God.” (John 12:42–43.) Our motives for the things we do are where the sin is manifest. Jesus said He did “always those things” that pleased God. (John 8:29.) Would we not do well to have the pleasing of God as our motive rather than to try to elevate ourselves above our brother and outdo another?

Some prideful people are not so concerned as to whether their wages meet their needs as they are that their wages are more than someone else’s. Their reward is being a cut above the rest. This is the enmity of pride.

When pride has a hold on our hearts, we lose our independence of the world and deliver our freedoms to the bondage of men’s judgment. The world shouts louder than the whisperings of the Holy Ghost. The reasoning of men overrides the revelations of God, and the proud let go of the iron rod. (See 1 Ne. 8:19–28; 1 Ne. 11:25; 1 Ne. 15:23–24.)

Pride is a sin that can readily be seen in others but is rarely admitted in ourselves. Most of us consider pride to be a sin of those on the top, such as the rich and the learned, looking down at the rest of us. (See 2 Ne. 9:42.) There is, however, a far more common ailment among us—and that is pride from the bottom looking up. It is manifest in so many ways, such as faultfinding, gossiping, backbiting, murmuring, living beyond our means, envying, coveting, withholding gratitude and praise that might lift another, and being unforgiving and jealous.

Disobedience is essentially a prideful power struggle against someone in authority over us. It can be a parent, a priesthood leader, a teacher, or ultimately God. A proud person hates the fact that someone is above him. He thinks this lowers his position.

Selfishness is one of the more common faces of pride. “How everything affects me” is the center of all that matters—self-conceit, self-pity, worldly self-fulfillment, self-gratification, and self-seeking.

Pride results in secret combinations which are built up to get power, gain, and glory of the world. (See Hel. 7:5; Ether 8:9, 16, 22–23; Moses 5:31.) This fruit of the sin of pride, namely secret combinations, brought down both the Jaredite and the Nephite civilizations and has been and will yet be the cause of the fall of many nations. (See Ether 8:18–25.)

Another face of pride is contention. Arguments, fights, unrighteous dominion, generation gaps, divorces, spouse abuse, riots, and disturbances all fall into this category of pride.

Contention in our families drives the Spirit of the Lord away. It also drives many of our family members away. Contention ranges from a hostile spoken word to worldwide conflicts. The scriptures tell us that “only by pride cometh contention.” (Prov. 13:10; see also Prov. 28:25.)

The scriptures testify that the proud are easily offended and hold grudges. (See 1 Ne. 16:1–3.) They withhold forgiveness to keep another in their debt and to justify their injured feelings.

The proud do not receive counsel or correction easily. (See Prov. 15:10; Amos 5:10.) Defensiveness is used by them to justify and rationalize their frailties and failures. (See Matt. 3:9;John 6:30–59.)

The proud depend upon the world to tell them whether they have value or not. Their self-esteem is determined by where they are judged to be on the ladders of worldly success. They feel worthwhile as individuals if the numbers beneath them in achievement, talent, beauty, or intellect are large enough. Pride is ugly. It says, “If you succeed, I am a failure.”

If we love God, do His will, and fear His judgment more than men’s, we will have self-esteem.

Pride is a damning sin in the true sense of that word. It limits or stops progression. (See Alma 12:10–11.) The proud are not easily taught. (See 1 Ne. 15:3, 7–11.) They won’t change their minds to accept truths, because to do so implies they have been wrong.

Pride adversely affects all our relationships—our relationship with God and His servants, between husband and wife, parent and child, employer and employee, teacher and student, and all mankind. Our degree of pride determines how we treat our God and our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to lift us to where He is. Do we desire to do the same for others?

Pride fades our feelings of sonship to God and brotherhood to man. It separates and divides us by “ranks,” according to our “riches” and our “chances for learning.” (3 Ne. 6:12.) Unity is impossible for a proud people, and unless we are one we are not the Lord’s. (See Mosiah 18:21; D&C 38:27; D&C 105:2–4; Moses 7:18.)

Think of what pride has cost us in the past and what it is now costing us in our own lives, our families, and the Church.

Think of the repentance that could take place with lives changed, marriages preserved, and homes strengthened, if pride did not keep us from confessing our sins and forsaking them. (See D&C 58:43.)

Think of the many who are less active members of the Church because they were offended and their pride will not allow them to forgive or fully sup at the Lord’s table.

Think of the tens of thousands of additional young men and couples who could be on missions except for the pride that keeps them from yielding their hearts unto God. (See Alma 10:6; Hel. 3:34–35.)

Think how temple work would increase if the time spent in this godly service were more important than the many prideful pursuits that compete for our time.

Pride affects all of us at various times and in various degrees. Now you can see why the building in Lehi’s dream that represents the pride of the world was large and spacious and great was the multitude that did enter into it. (See 1 Ne. 8:26, 33; 1 Ne. 11:35–36.)

Pride is the universal sin, the great vice. Yes, pride is the universal sin, the great vice.

The antidote for pride is humility—meekness, submissiveness. (See Alma 7:23.) It is the broken heart and contrite spirit. (See 3 Ne. 9:20; 3 Ne. 12:19; D&C 20:37; D&C 59:8; Ps. 34:18; Isa. 57:15; Isa. 66:2.) As Rudyard Kipling put it so well:

The tumult and the shouting dies;
The captains and the kings depart.
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget.
(Hymns, 1985, no. 80.)

God will have a humble people. Either we can choose to be humble or we can be compelled to be humble. Alma said, “Blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be humble.” (Alma 32:16.)

Let us choose to be humble.

We can choose to humble ourselves by conquering enmity toward our brothers and sisters, esteeming them as ourselves, and lifting them as high or higher than we are. (See D&C 38:24; D&C 81:5; D&C 84:106.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by receiving counsel and chastisement. (See Jacob 4:10; Hel. 15:3; D&C 63:55; D&C 101:4–5; D&C 108:1; D&C 124:61, 84; D&C 136:31; Prov. 9:8.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by forgiving those who have offended us. (See 3 Ne. 13:11, 14; D&C 64:10.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by rendering selfless service. (See Mosiah 2:16–17.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by going on missions and preaching the word that can humble others. (See Alma 4:19; Alma 31:5; Alma 48:20.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by getting to the temple more frequently.

We can choose to humble ourselves by confessing and forsaking our sins and being born of God. (See D&C 58:43; Mosiah 27:25–26; Alma 5:7–14, 49.)

We can choose to humble ourselves by loving God, submitting our will to His, and putting Him first in our lives. (See 3 Ne. 11:11; 3 Ne. 13:33; Moro. 10:32.)

Let us choose to be humble. We can do it. I know we can.

My dear brethren and sisters, we must prepare to redeem Zion. It was essentially the sin of pride that kept us from establishing Zion in the days of the Prophet Joseph Smith. It was the same sin of pride that brought consecration to an end among the Nephites. (See 4 Ne. 1:24–25.)

Pride is the great stumbling block to Zion. I repeat: Pride is the great stumbling block to Zion.

We must cleanse the inner vessel by conquering pride. (See Alma 6:2–4; Matt. 23:25–26.)

We must yield “to the enticings of the Holy Spirit,” put off the prideful “natural man,” become “a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord,” and become “as a child, submissive, meek, humble.” (Mosiah 3:19; see also Alma 13:28.)

That we may do so and go on to fulfill our divine destiny is my fervent prayer in the name of Jesus Christ, amen

Teaching your children about tithing

2011-05-09T03:38:00.000-07:00

The lesson today in Relief Society was about Tithing. The teacher asked us how we teach our children about tithing. I tried to think back to when I was taught about tithing but was mostly drawing a blank. I don't remember a time that I didn't know about tithing. Then again, I don't remember most things from my childhood.

But as the lesson progressed, I remembered my little plastic piggy bank that had 3 columns, one for tithing, one for savings, and one for a mission fund. (Honestly, nothing ever went in the mission fund section.) And then I remembered somehow having a brief conversation with my mom about the form in which I received my allowance so that I could pay tithing.

Sisters, is this not a blast from the past? I love how online they're calling it "Vintage". When did our childhood become vintage?!

I had this bizarre idea that to be an honest tithe, the money that I paid tithing with had to be the actual money I received from my allowance. So the 50 cents I put in the tithing slot HAD to be those exact two quarters my mother had just handed me as allowance. They couldn't be any other two quarters I had in my room that belonged to me.

But the real point of this post was that I finally remembered that my mom used to give me my allowance broken up into change so that I could directly pay tithing on it. I don't remember if this was her idea initially or if I asked for change often enough that she just started doing it that way. Either way, my allowance was, at one point, $5. So she would give me four One-dollar bills and four quarters. This made it easy for me to immediately put part of my allowance into my tithing bank.

By doing this, she provided the means whereby I could make it a habit to immediately pay my tithing the moment I was "paid". She made it easy for me when I was first learning to "sacrifice" my money. So that when I got older and it wasn't as easy, logistically speaking, to pay my tithing, I had had enough years of building a strong testimony of the blessings that come from paying my tithing that it wasn't an issue. I figured out a way to make it work, no questions asked.

So how's that for a round-about way to write an unintentionally Mother-centric post on Mother's Day? Good job, mom. I apparently learned something from all those years you taught me!

Blast from the past

2011-05-07T05:17:00.000-07:00

I love that I journal. I found this little gem from Ashlynn that I wrote on November 6, 2006. She was five years old at the time.

Thursday night, when we got in the car for Farmer’s, the Beach Boys were playing on the radio. Ashlynn said, “Oh, Nana likes the Beach Boys….And another band…I think they’re called the crickets, or something like that.” It took me a second to realize what she was thinking, then I realized she meant the Beatles.

Ashlynn and Ty 10/14/2006

I miss him, too!

2011-04-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

From Ty, 5 years old.

Typical Hallows eloquence

2011-04-06T22:18:00.000-07:00

The men in the Hallows family have a hysterical approach to the English language. They aren't content to merely call something by the name that society calls it. It must have a creative, often parodic eloquence to it.

Classic examples? My dad never told me to put my seat belt on. He just always made sure we had our "bun buckles" on.

His brother wears "looking helpers", writes with a "writing stick", and cooks his food in the"nukifier". He's also not bald, but too tall for his hair.

Their other brother took the cake today when his wife jokingly ribbed him about one of his faults. He said, calmly, "Well, I wouldn't want to get rid of my one fault. I don't want to achieve premature perfection!"

Oh you boys, where do you get these things?!

Here's a few comics that have made me laugh recently

2011-03-17T16:30:00.001-07:00

You all know I love comics. They make me laugh and I can relate to them. Perhaps that's my aspie way of relating to the world. Whatever. Here's a few that have made me laugh or shout "thank you!" recently.

I can see my dad pulling this one.

My shrink and I thought this one was pretty funny since we talk about "voices" in our heads all the time. (No, I'm not crazy. The "voices" are our social paradigms.)

Pretty much sums up my life at the moment!

Oh Bucky, I love you. "Morning" is when I get up, thank you very much, you "time Fascist!" (That's quoting Bucky...)

Google Girl gets a little MacGyver-ish

2011-03-02T18:45:00.001-08:00

Mom purchased a sweatshirt in Napa (16 miles away) and upon returning home discovered the security device was still attached to it. (We think there must have been two and the cashier did, indeed, remove one, because we found a slight depression in the fabric where another might have once been.) She wasn't about to drive 30 miles to have it removed so she presented it to me.

And me being Google Girl (duh duh duh DUH! Google-Girl! ) I Googled how to remove it. Once I understood the anatomy of this type of security device (ie: not an exploding ink device), we improvised and had it off in about 2 minutes.

It was Mom's idea to use a saw. The instructions I found online said to use hoof nippers. But since I didn't have any, I was thinking of using something with a sharp edge and a hammer to pop the cover off. The saw was much easier. And probably a lot safer, too. (In the above photo, I had already removed the sweatshirt and just stuck the pin back in place to take a picture of it...)

Once I had the cover off and the pin exposed, I just had to stick a small flat-head screw driver under the steel flap. A little upwards pressure and the pin fell out instantly.

You can see the instructions I used here.

Radioactive Snow Angels

2011-02-26T23:23:00.000-08:00

My first years in college were intense. I was intense. Up til 3am writing papers, then back up at 6am to finish studying for a Calculus exam. My roommate interrupted my studies one evening to ask me if I really needed to be that close to the book to see it. I blinked at her, then realized my back was bent, face 6 inches from the page. No, my eyes were fine. But my brain was not.

After one attempt at letting off some steam, she wrote a little piece for me entitled "Radioactive Snow Angels". I recently found the photos and text documenting this event, so I thought it and she would make a fun "guest blog" post. Enjoy. All work the intellectual property of Jenni B.

November 30, 2000.

Ellensburg.

It was late. The 4 inches of new snow had made for a cold day and I was glad to be back home in relative warmth. I had a paper due at 9am, so I had been typing most of the evening. It was nearly 1am when I heard a noise and my bedroom door flew open. A woman stood there, bursting with energy and in desperate need of a Valium.

I knew this dame: she was my roommate. I could tell from the look in her eyes that this was gonna be important.

"We need to go make snow angels" she said.

Snow angels. I should have guessed. But she was right. We grabbed some shoes and headed out the door, dressed only in pajamas and excitement. The dame dove into the snow, throwing herself down the incline in a shrieking ball of girl. Yup. Valium. I bounded through the snow behind her, ignoring the snow in my shoes and the chill in my ears.

One angel dressed in snow...

We stood then, side by side, our backs to a patch of clean, unadulterated snow. And then we did it. We made our mark. Arms and legs swished back and forth and up and down to the rhythm of chattering teeth and peals of girlish laughter. We got up and examined our handiwork.

Yup, there they were, two snow angels. Well, actually, hers looked a little like the three-pronged radioactive symbol. I pondered the deeper meaning of that thought for awhile.

...another disguised as radioactivity

Coatless and now shivering, we squealingly ran back to our apartment, shaking off snow at the door before entering. I immediately realized that something was wrong. Very wrong. There was still snow stuck to us. We hadn't succeeded in shaking it. I pulled her aside and looked her in the eye. We both knew what we had to do now. We did it. We stripped off the wet pajamas and chucked them into a nearby bathtub where they would be able to drip in peace.

Then, following some running madly about in our underwear as we discovered snow in other places (like stashed in hair clips) and attempted to remove it as efficiently as possible, we were able to locate and don dry pajamas.

And thus passed another day in the life of Jenni B, college student.

And there they remain, one angel dressed in snow, and another disguised as radioactivity. I think it means something.

Apparently I'm a femme fatale???

2011-02-22T04:33:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite blogs, that gets me laughing every time I read it, is "Plants are the Strangest People". The author of the blog, Mr. Subjunctive, is hilarious, well versed in plant culture, and just a dang good author. Plus he uses words like "shiggles". Which is just funny and gets stuck in my head.

He scores extra points with me because he's accurate about his plant facts, scrupulously researches them, and keeps detailed spreadsheets filled with data all about his plant collection, including watering schedule, purchase date, health, ease of care, etc. (Think I'm kidding? See here.) I'm a spreadsheet and numbers gal, myself.

Calathea ornata

He then uses this data to write a profile on the plant, usually based on some cultural stereotype, gives care information, and then assigns it a difficulty rating. (See here for his profile on Ficus benjamina, which he dubs "The Basket Case".)

A couple years ago he put these spreadsheets and plant profiles to humorous use and offered all his readers a personality profile that compared us with one of his already written plant descriptions, based on our answers to several questions. We were compared with plants that had similar metaphoric needs, preferences, and difficulty levels. And I gotta say, although it was for humor's sake, it was much more scientifically based than a lot of personality tests! (Again, due to his spreadsheets. I think I should write a love sonnet to Excel...Nah, I'll probably just create a spreadsheet and record all of its virtues there.)

I ended up being pronounced most similar to Calathea ornata, which he has dubbed "The Femme Fatale". You can read this plant's profile here. What cracked me up is that the first thing he says about this plant is:

"Let me be up-front about this. This is not an easy plant to grow indoors."

How funny, neither am I! (Calathea was given a difficulty rating of 7.8 out of 10. Sweet.) Poor Mr. Subjunctive is not a fan of this plant.

See, the thing is, Calathea ornata kinda broke my heart, once upon a time.

The rest of his post is written in a delicious classic film noir, Bogie-in-a-fedora, style.

"Buy you a drink?" I asked.

She turned slightly pinker before answering, "20-10-15." I signaled the bartender to bring us a couple glasses.

By the end of the post, Calathea ornata and me have a mental breakdown and are eventually placed into a garbage sack which is heaved into a dumpster. Awesome.

Dame was hysterical. (Dames usually are.) "You can't just throw me out there to fend for myself! The mites will eat me alive!"

"Pull yourself together!" I said. "The mites are all in your head!"

It's delicious. (He really should have trusted us about the mites. They weren't, after all, only in our head.)

And if you're looking for a plant that Mr. Subjunctive has given a 0.0 rating to (as in, so easy you couldn't kill it even if you were already dead yourself), see this post.

* In case you're scratching your head about Calathea's drink of choice, 20-10-15 is how fertilizer strength is written. It denotes the percentages of the major active ingredients in the mix- Nitrogen, Phosphorous, and Potassium, or NPK. Each type of plant requires a different amount of each of these ingredients so if you peruse your fertilizer aisle, you'll see a variety of combinations.

The smell of wood

2011-02-09T19:15:00.000-08:00

My Aunt J offered me this entry for my smell journal:

The smell of freshly cut lumber is one of my favorite smells - especially Cedar, as it is the most fragrant. It smells earthy and sweet at the same time. I could inhale the fragrance all day and never grow tired of it. I always loved replenishing clean wood shavings in the horses' stalls, and Tonka used to love to sleep on and roll in the shavings pile - so I believe animals love the smell too.

Another wonderful thing is driving along with the windows down behind a truck loaded with shavings or chips, or driving past a lumber mill. I make sure the window is down, so I can enjoy the moment. I also like walking through a newly framed house being built, because it smells so good, and productive. I'm just sure the wonderful smell of wood is why Jesus chose to learn carpentry from his father. And because of him, Amanda, you will someday be able to fully enjoy every wonderful smell - probably even more than we smellers will.

Thanks, AJ! We have a kinship with our love of wood (among other things!).

Why "Jill" is The Other Woman in our house

2011-02-05T08:33:00.000-08:00

Recalculating!!!

Tasting beautiful words

2011-02-04T11:16:00.000-08:00

I'm re-reading East of Eden, this time with colored marking pencils in hand to really suck the marrow out of the book.

I am again in awe of this book. The Aspie in me loves it because the author delves deeply into the personalities and motivations of characters and what they're thinking. The lexiophile in me loves the taste of his writing. And his description of the Salinas Valley and Central Coast is breathtaking and accurate. I loved living in this area and he captures its essence perfectly. By reading his description, I feel like I'm there again, only tasting it this time, experiencing it even more deeply than I ever did before.

Islay Hill

(And shockingly, all the photos in this post are by me, except for the California poppies, which is by my dad.)

An ode to my personal Garden of Eden, written by John Steinbeck:

On the wide level acres of the valley the topsoil lay deep and fertile. It required only a rich winter of rain to make it break forth in grass and flowers. The spring flowers in a wet year were unbelievable. The whole valley floor, and the foothills too, would be carpeted with lupins and poppies. Once a woman told me that colored flowers would seem more bright if you added a few white flowers to give the colors definition. Every petal of blue lupin is edged with white, so that a field of lupins is more blue than you can imagine.

Hillside of lupins

And mixed with these were splashes of California poppies. These too are of a burning color - not orange, not gold but if pure gold were liquid and could raise a cream, that golden cream might be like the color of the poppies.

California poppies

When their season was over the yellow mustard came up and grew to a great height. When my grandfather came into the valley the mustard was so tall that a man on horseback showed only his head above the yellow flowers.

Yellow mustard

On the uplands the grass would be strewn with buttercups, hen-and-chickens, with black-centered yellow violets. And a little later in the season there would be red and yellow stands of Indian paintbrush. These were the flowers of the open places exposed to the sun.

Under the live oaks, shaded and dusky, the maidenhair flourished and gave a good smell, and under the mossy banks of the water courses whole clumps of five-fingered ferns and goldy-backs hung down. Then there were harebells, tiny lanterns, cream white and almost sinful looking, and these were so rare and magical that a child, finding one, felt singled out and special all day long.

Oaks in the July early morning fog

When June came the grasses headed out and turned brown, and the hills turned a brown which was not brown but a gold and saffron and red - an indescribable color.

Grasses on Islay Hill

The valley land was deep and rich, but the foothills wore only a skin of topsoil no deeper than the grass roots; and the father up the hills you went, the thinner grew the soil, with flints sticking through, until at the brush line it was a kind of dry flinty gravel that reflected the hot sun blindingly.

Thin soil at Cerro San Luis Obispo, locally known as Madonna Mountain

The water came in a thirty-year cycle. There would be five or six wet and wonderful years when there might be nineteen to twenty-five inches of rain, and the land would shout with grass.

Cerro San Luis shouting with grass after a week of rain

THIS baby can read!

2011-02-02T23:11:00.000-08:00

Ty reading 1/29/11 from Amanda on Vimeo.

He loves Chuck E. Cheese...

2011-01-29T22:14:00.000-08:00

...except for the big rat.

"Is he coming out yet?" Note the hood up for ROUS protection...

Ty lurvs going to Chuck E. Cheese, always talk about it, and never wants to leave. Except for the fact that its mascot freaks him out. Today he said, brightly, "Hey! I know! We'll just play and then leave before Chuckie comes out!" I told him sadly that meant we'd have to leave in the next four minutes. So he settled for this instead.

He randomly informed me that my armpit smelled like shampoo. Lucky him, I guess!

Every time I take him, I always have to ask the employees when the regularly scheduled Chuckie appearances will be. And then I have to calmly let Ty know that Chuckie is in view now and keep him informed of the rat's Twenty at all times.

Nana keeping up a running dialog to keep the panic from escalating. Seriously, this kid ASKS to go to Chuck E. Cheese. We don't make him come here.

I've debated whether or not I'm feeding into his phobia by acknowledging it. But seriously, if you've ever seen this kid freak out when Chuckie appears suddenly, you wouldn't hesitate to calmly keep Ty constantly apprised of the rat's movements, either.

Today he spent over 45 minutes (in 10-15 minute shifts) buried under my sweatshirt, and then buried further under my armpit.

Of course, if you look closely, he either has a very strong smile reflex whenever a camera is around, or he's able to break away from the fear for a few moments at a time when distracted...

He was NOT doing this when I positioned the camera. This was one of those moments that you don't realize happened until AFTER you look at the photos. Little stinker. But excellent photo, I think.

That eyebrow is up to something!

Having fun watching Briggs play Mario Kart. But Chuckie was still roaming, so he demanded I hold him closely. Perhaps a better compromise than my armpit?

Vincent's long-lost twin

2011-01-26T23:35:00.001-08:00

This is Vincent to a T. Both the laundry AND the weakness for treats.

(To my readers that read directly from my blogs website, sorry that the video doesn't fit on the screen. Double click on the video to see it full screen.)

(Thanks, Jake, for taking the picture to prove he's obsessed!)

Delicate blogging

2011-01-24T12:26:00.001-08:00

It's always a fine line to walk, deciding what to blog, what's too personal to blog, and what might get you fired. That last is the one that I worry about the most. It's not that I do anything illegal, or anywhere near illegal or unethical but it's not a good idea to have your entire life as an open book to potential employers.

And I find it funny because up until I started blogging, I made sure that you couldn't find me ANYWHERE on the internet. (Except for winning the state math competition in high school and receiving a scholarship...neither websites were under my control) I went through and deleted some previous posts that I didn't feel still needed to be up on the public internet, but others were more germane and I wasn't willing to delete them completely...yet.

I like the idea of a private blog for some people, but I've never wanted to go private myself because I do have friends that find me randomly and I'd still like to be able to hear from other people that way.

So who knows what balance I'll find (if any) but for now, I thought this comic was funny and germane.

Bad smells

2011-01-21T21:41:00.001-08:00

I mentioned in this post that I was collecting descriptions of smells for a Smell Journal. Here's something I received from one of my main contributors (who's also kindly been my nose for more years than I can count!).

Here is a list of worst smells... not in order, just what I can think of right now.

1) Corn Nuts/corn nut breath
2) garlic B.O.
3) raw onion (cooking onion is a really good smell)
4) onion B.O./breath
5) wet dog that has soaked into fabric/car seats
6) public port o' potty in the sun
7) cat urine
8) farts of any kind (except horse) but especially dog ¹
9) rotten meat
10) excuses (they are like armpits, everyone has them and they all stink)
11) sponges (if you leave them wet a bacteria will grow and it really stinks and makes your hand stink when you touch them. You should never use sponges because you would never be able to tell when they went sour)
12) rancid oil (anything that has oil in it can go rancid)
13) coffee breath

This picture reminds me of Ashlynn for this reason.

1 Lorien calls this "crop dusting"

For Dad

2011-01-17T14:18:00.001-08:00

Which is ironic, since he doesn't actually read my blog (and I don't blame him....) but I'll point it out to him.

Vabandust, ma ei räägi eesti keelt

2011-01-16T18:17:00.000-08:00

Vabandust, ma ei räägi eesti keelt.¹

Kas siis selle maa keel
Laulutuules ei või
Taevani tõustes üles
Igavikku omale otsida?
~Kristjan Jaak Peterson²

Years ago I taught Preschool at KinderCare. There was a sweet little girl in my class, Alice, who was from Estonia. Her mother would speak Estonian to her, but they both spoke English well and Alice had no accent, with the mother having only a mild accent.

One day Alice brought a book from home and asked me to read it to her. It was a short Teletubbies book so I thought, sure, why not. I'd seen a commercial of Teletubbies but never actually seen an episode of the children's show. All I knew was that they were funny, alien- looking creatures that spoke in beeps and coos and were all the rage with children at the time.

So I opened the book and was surprised to find that I didn't understand anything written in it. It was in the basic Latin alphabet, all right (same as English), but it was complete gibberish! I'm thinking to myself, Oh. My. Gosh. Teletubbies is so popular they've even created a Teletubbies language and written books in it!

Here Come the Teletubbies!

But hey, it was in the Latin alphabet so I thought, ok, I'll sound it out and humor her. (In my defense, the characters' names are Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa, and Po.) It took me about 5 minutes to read it, sounding out the entire book to her, and I skipped some sections, but she went away content. I just shook my head and thought, Wow, the lengths they'll go in Children's advertising.

When Alice's mom came to pick her up that evening, I gave the book back to her mom and joked that Alice had me read it to her. The mom was a little surprised and said, "You can read Estonian?!"

"What?! No!" I said. "What made you think that?"

"Because this book is in Estonian."

Hehe, so it WAS a real language! And I had read the whole thing (well, almost), just sounding out the words as I went. I guess no where in the entire book were the unique Estonian letters ä, ö, ü, õ, š and ž to clue me in that this might be an actual European language and not some made up alien-sounding language. Or perhaps they were in the sections I skipped...

Does this qualify me for teacher of the year??? Don't believe me that Teletubbies in Estonian looks weird? Perhaps the word "Teletupsud" should have clued me in... Oh, and apparently Estonia was the first country outside the UK to broadcast the show. They got it before we did here in the States!

1 "Vabandust, ma ei räägi eesti keelt." = Sorry, I don't speak Estonian.

2 Cannot the language of this land
In the wind of incantation
Rising up to the heavens
Seek for eternity?

My own private game of Telephone

2011-01-04T05:08:00.000-08:00

I have a hard time hearing or understanding things spoken over the phone. It might be my cell phone but I think it's just me because I've had this problem with at least two phones. Tonight Lorien remarked that I was my very own personal game of Telephone.

Here is an example from a conversation I had today.

"You did what today?"
"I listened to the Doctrine and Covenants."
"You did what???"
"I listened to the Doctrine and Covenants."
"You listened to Dr. who???"
"DOCTRINE. AND. COVENANTS. The SCRIPTURES."
"Oh! The Doctrine and Covenants! As in the scriptures!"
"Yes. Are you sure you're LDS?"
"Um, yeah, but I'm also apparently deaf. Sorry."

And people wonder why I prefer texting for short conversations...

Write me a Smell Journal, please?

2011-01-03T05:27:00.001-08:00

I found a website written by a fellow anosmic and it's scary how much she sounds like me. Sure, she has a different writing style and she's a different person. But since I've never actually ever met anyone in person, in the flesh, that can't smell (no - really can't smell, not just has a poor sense of smell) whenever I read someone else's description of their experience with anosmia, it's spot on what I've experienced. And their emotions are the exact same.

Well, this woman's husband is a writer and he's started writing a "Smell Journal" for her. How awesome! EJ especially has described certain scents to me in the past, but for the most part, I've forgotten them.

So I'm entreating all of you to pick one scent (your favorite, your least favorite, something that you just smelled, whatever you choose) and write down a description for me. You can use all other senses, such as taste, touch, sound, even colors and shapes or stories and situations.

For example, Ashlynn described the smell of the trolley as smelling of "public old people". I totally understood what she meant! And someone else described strong cologne as if you stepped into bright sunlight suddenly and couldn't see. Finally now I understand what that's like! (Because I've never been overwhelmed by taste before so I couldn't imaging being overwhelmed by smell...)

If this sounds daunting, don't worry, I won't know if you described it wrong! And think of it as a fun and challenging writing experiment. It could be completely scientific and exact or it could be more like a poem. If several people partake, think what a wonderful array of definitions we'll get!

And I will love you forever.

The Word of Wisdom is about revelation

2010-12-05T18:49:00.000-08:00

I have come to know that a fundamental purpose of the Word of Wisdom has to do with revelation. From the time you are very little we teach you to avoid tea, coffee, liquor, tobacco, narcotics, and anything else that disturbs your health....If someone "under the influence" can hardly listen to plain talk, how can they respond to spiritual promptings that touch their most delicate feelings? As valuable as the Word of Wisdom is as a law of health, it may be much more valuable to you spiritually than it is physically. ~Elder Boyd K Packer Ensign Nov 1979, 20

Fate goads me onward

2010-11-25T03:13:00.000-08:00

For these things I would have crawled on with her for twenty years, if for twenty years longer her life of endurance had been protracted. But another decree was written. It seemed I must be stimulated into action. I must be goaded, driven, stung, forced to energy. My little morsel of human affection, which I prized as if It were a solid pearl, must melt in my fingers and slip thence like a dissolving hailstone. My small adopted duty must be snatched from my easily contented conscience. I had wanted to compromise with Fate: to escape occasional great agonies by submitting to a whole life of privation and small pains. Fate would not so be pacified; nor would Providence sanction this shrinking sloth and cowardly indolence.

~Villette, Charlotte Bronte

I wonder to what I am being driven? I can only imagine that since it's the Lord that's goading me onward, it will be better than where I'm at now! (It's still just a bit scary not knowing, though...)

(And no, this fly mask does not blind the horse, but everyone thinks it does so I figured it was appropriate to use the photo...)

Pets are scientifically better stress-relievers

2010-11-20T23:54:00.000-08:00

I found this article on Yahoo and heartily agree:

Hanging out with loved ones has long been touted as an instant mood-booster, but according to new scientific evidence, when it comes to managing stress, the calming effects of spending time with a furry friend trump those obtained by hanging out with friends and family. "Having your pet, whether a cat or a dog, with you during a stressful event turns out to be more soothing than a best friend or a spouse," says James J. Blascovich, PhD, a professor of psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara.

Dr. Blascovich and colleagues asked volunteers to perform difficult math problems while in the company of their spouse, a friend, or their pet. Using heart rate and blood pressure as measures of stress, the researchers found that people strained the least and performed the best when in the company of their cat or dog. While spending time with a friend or spouse can be a great way to relax, sidle up to your pet when the pressure's on.

Fitting a triangle through a circle hole

2010-11-11T19:54:00.000-08:00

Society tells us that it's great to be unique, to be your own shape. Do what you love! Be who you want! But what's unspoken is that they expect you to still fit within their pre-defined shapes.

For those that have Asperger's, trying to live our life is like being a triangle that's shoved through a circle hole. Especially with high functioning Asperger's we seem to fit in and make do in the "real world". But something just doesn't quite fit. We're great at some things, so people expect us to be great at everything else. ("Amanda, you're so smart! Why can't you just do ....X....")

And because we seem "normal" people expect us to cut off portions of us that don't fit in with the rest of the world. These bleeding edges that get cut off by society, by every other person around us, hurt.

People with Asperger's just want to be accepted. So they willingly put up with this spiritual self-mutilation, thinking "that's just how things are done". So we sit quietly with the pain of knowing something's missing, something's not quite right. Because it's the price of fitting in and being accepted by everyone we know we don't fight back, we accept the ache and hide it away carefully so we don't appear even more unnormal.

Well, I'm fighting back for all my fellow-Aspies. We do not need to cut off the parts that God gave us to make us great. We don't need to ache over the parts of us that appear to be missing because "everyone else" seems to be able to do what we can't.

We should be able to be brilliant in some areas and totally lacking in others without recrimination. Everyone should strive for self-betterment but it's up to each individual (in partnership with God) to decide what they need to and want to work on.

So go hug your person with Asperger's and (metaphorically) embrace them when their corners poke you, instead of going at them with a hack saw. Because you've got corners too. And we put up with you and even love you!

(This message has been brought to you not because of any specific event, but from the years of watching, loving, and hurting for every kid that I have ever cared for feel like they're wrong. It's my joy in life to take a kid by the hand, find what makes them shine, and teach them how to let their own light shine.)

Blame Jimmy Carter

2010-11-04T22:49:00.000-07:00

Remember how I like the metric system? So does Sheldon (of course...)

Penny: Sorry, honey, I don't know millileters.

Sheldon: Well, blame President James "Jimmy" Carter. He started America on a path to the metric system but then just gave up. Psh, he wonders why he was a one-term president.

The Geek Squad!

2010-10-31T18:30:00.000-07:00

Or the Nerd Herders, depending on which show you like better...

My old laptop (that I have very fond feelings for) stopped working because the charger kept shorting out the computer. Amazingly, no data was ever lost when it would short, but after charging for a bit, then it would ZAP! And have no charge. And it was impossible to find that sweet spot position the charger had to sit in to get it to consistently charge.

So Dad wondered if we could fix that because it felt like it was just a solder issue. And I said, "Let's go for it! As it is, it's useless, so we can't do any more damage to it." Dad was reluctant because he didn't want to break it anymore but I convinced him that really, an unchargeable 5 year old computer was useless. And if we could fix it, the rest of the computer was in excellent working order.

Trying to figure out where the screws are that hold the housing together...

Tada! Now what do we do?

The shim Dad designed to wedge the charging thingy into place better. He just inserted three pieces of broken plastic in between some board and the thingy until it stopped wiggling.

Man was it fun. While Dad got distracted watching the end of a TV show I put it back together in about 15 minutes. (It took over 45 to dismantle it...) And we only ended up with 3 extra screws. Oh, and the mouse/track pad doesn't work. But if you just hook up a USB mouse, it works no problem.

It's ALLIIIVVVVE!

Another pesky computer problem I had was my new computer's charger cable. It glowed blue. And it was bright. And blue light is VERY bad for your sleep. And I have enough problems with sleep as it is. So I asked him to tape it up.

Looks pretty good, doesn't it!

Sometimes hearts crack and other times they bleed

2010-10-26T22:44:00.000-07:00

I have had my heart truly broken only once. That day my heart started out full of joy. Then it was filled with a moment of stress and suddenly, almost audibly, it cracked. It took me weeks of working 14 hour days just to distract myself from the pain enough to move on.

I don't think hearts ever really fully recover. I know this because I still can't talk about my particular heart break directly, even though others would consider the situation silly rather than heart breaking. But the broken pieces do meld back together, albeit in a different form than your heart originally was.

After experiencing this life-altering heart break, I thought I knew what a broken heart felt like. But recently, I've realized that sometimes a heart doesn't break into distinct shards. Sometimes it just slowly bleeds. And it took me a while to realize mine was bleeding.

I miss my cats several times a day. When I feel a lump in my blankets, I momentarily think it's a cat. I am still careful to close my drawers fully to keep a cat from climbing into it. Driving by pet supply stores makes my heart leak even more.

I also miss my nieces and nephews. I miss taking 3 of them to Farmer's Market and the sheer joy I felt being able to cuddle with them whenever I wanted to. I ache that I didn't have this opportunity with my other niece and nephew.

Having my bachelor's degree pushed even further down the road contributes a drop or two to the bleeding.

I know that I am where I am supposed to be. I had the Spirit prepare me for this move and then, when I was ready, clearly testify to me that this was what I needed to do for my benefit. I know that in time, things will be even better if I continue to follow His plan rather than do what I think is best. This knowledge makes it easier, but it doesn't make it perfect.

But eventually the cracks will heal and my heart will no longer bleed. Until then, I'll just keep praying and enjoying the solace and happiness that following my Savior can bring.

I don't know why, but I felt the need to write this post. Hopefully it's not too private to post on the web and doesn't offend anyone.

Well, I'll be darned!

2010-10-22T03:32:00.000-07:00

Recall this post...

Perhaps they read my blog???

The shenanigans of my kitty-boys

2010-10-21T15:14:00.000-07:00

My kitty-boys are now living with my best friend, Lorien, and her ever-patient husband, Jake. They're both cat-lovers but still, having two cats that AREN'T yours live with you can be trying at times, I'm sure.

I recently saw this post from Jake and had to re-post it. I'm stealing his wording because he says it best.

"I was awakened at 4am today by a cat in serious need of attention. Said cat soon found himself behind a closed door."

When I asked him which cat it was, he filled me in a little more.

"It was Vincent. At first I obliged him because he NEVER comes near me, but he quickly got annoying and started stepping on Lorien and woke her up too. We finally shut the door so he couldn't come back. Then after we got up, he ran away from me if I even looked at him. It was like a midnight booty call but for attention, and he regretted it in the morning..."

Oh, Vincent. I love you. But not when you wake me up at 4 in the morning, scratching at my hair wanting attention!

I'll eventually post a few pictures I took of the boys as they were settling into their new home. (Which I'm hoping will be temporary and of very short term, but it's not looking to be as short-term as I'd hoped...)

"I can't believe you never told me!"

2010-10-14T20:26:00.001-07:00

Ahhh, those happy days when she was young enough to bounce...

So apparently, I stopped blogging when I moved back home. I've had blog ideas, but they've been too involved and I really didn't feel like spending 2+ hours on a post most people wouldn't read because it was too long.

But when I'm around my nieces and nephews, they do the hard creative work and make my job easy. Case in point: I got a call from Brian's cell phone and Ashlynn (9) left a message saying, "Hi Auntie, call me back, I've got a question about Farmer's."

I was feeling pretty special that she had to call me for Farmer's information. Someone else may be able to take them to Farmer's, but I still have the skinny, the haps, the poop, the scoop, the dealio ¹ on Farmer's. It made me feel less replaceable.

So I called her back right away and she answered with, "They wouldn't let me on the Bounce House! I'm too old!"

Me: I'm sorry, they've had a sign up for a while that says if you're over 7 or 8, you can't jump. But we just kept going and no one said anything. (I know, I'm a terrible, lying example of an Auntie. And I'm actually telling her all this!)
Ashlynn: Well why didn't you at least tell us when you moved?! I would have liked to know that!
Me: Well, I thought you could just keep going. Was the normal girl there? The one that knows you?
Ashlynn: Yeah, the blond one with the pony tail. But she was just calling out names. They have a new girl at the desk.
Me: Oh man, I talked to the blond girl where I get my car fixed the day before I moved and said goodbye to her! She said she was sad she wouldn't see us anymore at Farmer's.
Ashlynn: Well, this just stinks that I can't jump.
Me: So what did you end up doing?

Trying on hats and performing tableaus for Auntie - I can just see someone interviewing her when she's a major celebrity. "So, where did you get your start?"...

Ashlynn: We went to Beverley's and tried on just a few hats. And then we saw and made fun of the blond music guy.
Me: Wait, which blond guy?
Ashlynn: You know, the guy with the long blond hair and the wind and the music "do do!"
Me: (Laughing out loud) That guy! The drama king with the fake violin and breast plates?
Ashlynn: Yeah, him.
Me: So did you get to do fun kid stuff or just old people walk around and look at stuff stuff? (I know, more bad Auntie action, feed her negative words...)
Ashlynn: (Her voice pitched lower so her dad couldn't hear) Just old people look around stuff.

(I know, you didn't really need that whole conversation, but it made me feel reconnected to her. And this blog is for posterity.)

Racing the Trickster King

Then she told me they watched the Hawaiian dance because K and M were dancing in it. I asked her if M was able to dance this year because last year she got stage fright and the poor little girl cried. Ashlynn said, "Yeah, she danced. She did good. Wait, just to clarify, M is the one with blond hair, right?"

Clarify?! I sometimes wonder if our family sets our kids up for social failure by teaching them such big words, thereby assuring that their peers automatically dislike them because they can't understand them? But Ashlynn seems to be fairing well at school so I guess I shouldn't worry. In her own words, she knows everyone in 3rd and 4th grade at least by name. (And she does!)
1Olive Snook says this in "Pushing Daisies". You should watch it.

Awww, sleep talking is cute!

2010-10-11T04:04:00.000-07:00

I used to have a roommate who would lock her door at night just in case I had a night terror. In my defense, I have never hurt anyone but myself. Just saying.

KNIFE-WIELDING MONKEYS!!!

2010-10-09T18:05:00.001-07:00

Someone recently made fun of me for being able to enjoy low-brow humor and seemingly brainless books like Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

I responded with, "Well, my brain is always going so fast it's kind of nice to give it a break sometimes."

"Oh, so now you're using your intelligence to justify watching these stupid movies?!" she laughed.

"No. My brain is like a hamster on its running wheel. It's always running, but it's not getting anywhere. Not very smart, but it does it anyway!"

Click on the comic to make it bigger

And these are the kinds of conversations that make our relationship stronger than ever. And make people shake their heads at us in confusion and disapproval. But it works for us! When her knee twitches, so does mine.

This bugs me...

2010-10-08T22:23:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a very interesting article about the origin of phrases (such as "more than you can shake a stick at"). Go read it if you want. But be informed that one of the photos is misleading.

I am very upset by this.

(The other 99.9999% of the population can read the article happily and ignore the less-than-blatant error...)

What bugs me is when the article references opium poppies, it shows a picture of California poppies. Not related, people!!! (And the intern who chose the pictures for the article is clearly from the west coast because California poppies are only native to the west coast so that's what they probably think of when they think of poppies...I wonder what East-coasters immediately think of when they think Poppy...)

Eschscholzia californica - I like the repeated schsch in the spelling

The botanical name for California poppies is Eschscholzia californica. The botanical name for Opium poppies is Papaver somniferum. They're not even in the same genus (that would be like comparing first cousins in humans).

Papaver somniferum

They are both in the Papaveraceae family, which isn't very close in the plant world, and in the human world is comparable to about 2nd or 3rd cousins. And they look about as similar as 3rd cousins might, ie: not at all. Check out the pictures for yourself.

And then I give you permission to roll your eyes at me for being bugged by this triviality.

Oh, and Iceland poppies (Papaver nudicaule) are different, too. They're native to subarctic regions of Northern Europe and North America but look more like their heat-loving cousins, the Opium poppies.

Papaver nudicaule

IBS again as explained by Sheldon

2010-10-02T23:03:00.001-07:00

Remember this post? Well, Sheldon has a very highly attuned system that doesn't do well with changes. When he decides to switch his diet to live longer (so he can live long enough to be fused with the not-yet invented robot technology...) he awakes in the middle of the night with "pain radiating from [his] navel to [his] lower intestine."

"If it's not cholera, then based on a quick internet search the other explanation in decreasing order of likelihood are Hirschsprung's disease, botulism, a 30-foot tapeworm or accidental ingestion of Chrysanthemum blossoms."

"When would you have accidentally eaten Chrysanthemum blossoms?"

"It's part of an unlikely scenario that involves sleep-walking in a 24-hour flower market with a less-than-vigilant proprietor."

This just cracks me up in light of my recent sleep-shouting episode. Hmm, and Dad and I were just eying some nice fall Chrysanthemums at the grocery store tonight. Good thing we didn't get them!

Another Disney-induced myth debunked

2010-09-29T19:17:00.000-07:00

You all know that lemmings are so dumb that they jump off cliffs because they are following other lemmings jumping off cliffs, right? Well, turns out that's false. (So stop using it as a method for teaching your teenagers...)

Thanks to Disney's "White Wilderness" movie (1958) several generations of (at least) Americans believe lemmings commit cyclical suicide. Nope, they don't. Check out what our good friend, Snopes.com has to say about this.

24 Things You Might Be Saying Wrong #1

2010-09-24T16:24:00.000-07:00

Reader's Digest authors Melissa DeMeo and Paul Silverman wrote a list of "24 things you might be saying wrong". I found them fascinating and hilarious and so educational.

So I'll be posting them here every few days for your educational pleasure.

You never mean: Could care less

You always mean: Couldn't care less

Why: You want to say you care so little already that you couldn't possibly care any less. When the Boston Celtics' Ray Allen said, "God could care less whether I can shoot a jump shot," we know he meant exactly the opposite because 1) God has other things on his mind, and 2) God is a Knicks fan.

24 Things You Might Be Saying Wrong

How I see myself these days...

2010-09-23T19:54:00.001-07:00

My baby was called pretty today!

2010-09-22T21:26:00.001-07:00

Vincent, the character I named my kitty after, because they look so much alike.

So, my family and friends think that Vincent is pretty ugly. And I get where they're coming from. He is very odd looking. But I think this oddness makes him darn cute. And I've loved his soul from Day 1, so there really must be something to the "but he's got a wonderful personality!" (At least for the furry and four-legged types, mutually inclusive.)

But today his vet, MY vet, the vet that I've loved ever since he saved my Mr. Honey Bunny 14 years ago, called him "Beautiful." That's right folks, Vincent got called Beautiful! Eat your heart out, nay-sayers! He said that his coat was only dull right now because he was shedding.

And the moment Periwinkle stepped out of his crate onto the exam table, Dr. Russum. exclaimed, "My, he has a personality!" And yes he does! Periwinkle checked out what the vet and techs were doing, proclaimed, "I am Periwinkle Hallows and I approve of your methods" then went about demanding attention and general praise from Dr. Russum et al.

And of course Dr. Russum shook his head in calm amazement and said, "That is one big cat." Which is funny to me because Pip is my baby. And he still acts like a baby. Well, more like a puppy. (He thinks he's a dog.) But everyone says this every time they see Pip again.

Then the Doctor said that Periwinkle was nice looking, very unique. "He must be some sort of a dilute," he said. "He's got an amazing coat color and pattern." Which I've heard said of my striped and spotted, gray and peach Pip before.

Yes, folks, he weights 16.2 lbs!

Call me a proud Mommy, I don't care! And I've so enjoyed my time with them these past couple days while they're chillin' in Nana's garage until they go live with Aunt Lorien for a little while. Just petting, brushing, and cuddling with them has set my soul to rights.

Furry stress relievers

2010-09-19T13:17:00.000-07:00

As I was putting clean sheets on my bed today I almost cried because I was expecting to have to keep taking Vincent off the bed. But he's not here to "help" me make the bed. It's funny how I still think, "I need to shut that drawer so he doesn't get into it" or "I need to keep that shelf cleared so they can sit on it and enjoy looking out the window."

My cats are probably doing fine without me at my sister's house, but I'm not doing so fine without them. My bedtime routine has been shattered without having them here to calm me down for sleep. We used to cuddle together while I read and ran my fingers through their hair. Then when the lights went out, they knew to hop to their own sleeping places at the foot of my bed.

Up until now, it's felt like I've been on vacation and I'll see them again soon. But now it's sinking in that it will be a long time before I can afford to live with them again.

I went to the volunteer orientation at our local county Animal Shelter so that should help some, but it won't completely make up for missing them. Cats are expensive, but they more than make up for it with their positive influence on your mental health.

Vonce awona pime

2010-09-09T22:57:00.000-07:00

Ty wanted me to keep him company while he was, well, you can tell what he was doing...

He was telling me about this book and he could not say the title. It was hilarious! The first video is actually the second one I recorded, but it's the funniest and explains the setup.

I'd like to point out that the last thing he says that gets cut off is "And I didn't wipe."

Let me state for the record that I only started recording after he had tripped over the title so many times but was still determined to say it. And it was hilarious, so I started filming. And I made sure to keep the camera at a discreet angle so that I could post the video. I didn't want to embarrass him now or in the future. Plus it's just tacky to take pictures of kids on toilets, isn't it?

Update

2010-09-07T23:14:00.001-07:00

Things are going well here. I don't think I've driven my folks crazy yet being back home. It was a surprise to realize I haven't lived at home for 12 years though.

First thing upon arriving in town I got a library card. I'm excited because the Suisun library branch is only a couple miles down the street. And get this: It's open until 9pm on several nights! Whoo hoo! Already checked out two books.

The weather when we were packing things up in SLO was ridiculously hot (98F in SLO?!). It got better as the week and our packing progressed. But then when we made it back here to Suisun, it was ridiculously hot (hovering near 100F each day and usually cooling to the mid 80's at night). Blessedly, most buildings (and mom and dad's house) have air conditioning.

I'm a wimp, and having lived in SLO for 5 years, I wasn't handling the heat very well. But the nice thing about Suisun (and living right near the water) is that after a few to several days of heat, we have a break and get lovely, blustery 75F days that just perk you right back up and make you feel like you could handle another week of heat if it came back.

Today was one such day. And here is a paragraph from the new book I just got from the library that describes this week perfectly...

It was at least forty degrees above warm. The day felt like a windowless kitchen where the oven had been left on high for an entire afternoon. Heat beat down from above and sizzled up from the dirt as the earth let off some much-needed steam. The sky had decided it had had quite enough, thank you, and had vacated the scene, leaving the air empty except for heat. ...The few remaining plants in people's gardens didn't droop, they passed out. And the flags that only days before had hung majestically on the top of local flagpoles no longer looked majestic, they looked like multicolored pieces of cloth that had climbed up and tragically hung themselves.

All this in and of itself was not too terribly unusual, but the heavy sun started to melt away an odd, wild, uncoordinated wind began to pick up. It was as if the four corners of earth and heaven all decided to simultaneously blow, creating what local weather personalities...called "beyond frightening." Sure, people could breathe, but now they were getting blown away...Cats learned how to fly that evening, and any loose article weighing less than a car was taken up in the rapture of the moment.

~ Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo by Obert Skye

10 Things Everyone Should Know About Autism

2010-08-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

My friend introduced me to this woman's blog, "Reports from a Resident Alien". She posts about what it's like to be a person with Austim.

I'm really looking forward to reading more of her posts, but for now I wanted to direct you to her most recent post, "10 Things Everyone Should Know About Autism". It's amazing.

What does your daddy do?

2010-08-23T02:07:00.001-07:00

I've always hated when people ask me what my dad does for a living because it's really hard to describe. I usually just say he works in the printing industry, then they give me a blank stare and then move on because they don't really care.

I know what he does but I don't know how to describe it (especially since his exact duties have changed over the 29 years he's worked for the company).

So when Ashlynn and I were discussing colors (ie: no, green was not a Primary Color) I finally said, "Here, let's ask Papa. That's what he does for his job." She looked at me questioningly and I said, "He's a Color-knower-all-abouter."

So that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Ashlynn has learned graciousness

2010-08-19T22:50:00.000-07:00

You know how it takes kids a few (to several) years to learn to accept all birthday gifts graciously, without showing, "Ugg, what is this?" symptoms? Well, I believe Ashlynn has gotten to this point. I was actually pretty proud of her, but also laughing hysterically (so was the rest of the room).

Her grandparents got her a kids' size Camelbak because she loves stuffing her small purse ("It's not a purse, it's a satchel!" she insists) with necessities with which to take on hikes and adventures. She usually has anti-itch cream in there, bandages and gauze, and a note pad in case she had to take down some important case notes. (I think she got the idea from watching Nancy Drew a few years ago.)

So for my present to her, I got her little things that every adventurer needs in their adventure "satchel". (Chapstick, nail clippers, anti-itch lotion, bandages, Neosporin, travel hairbrush...) The first thing she opened was a travel sized packet of wet-wipes. She pleasantly said, "Oh thank you, Auntie. Now I can have something in the bathroom to wipe with when toilet paper isn't enough so my hands don't get wet."

We started laughing because the poor child thought I was giving her toilet paper for her birthday. So she defended herself by saying, "Hey! I share a bathroom with two brothers. There's pee everywhere! On the seat, the floors, the counters!" (Kate really does keep a clean house but you can't sterilize a boy's bathroom 10 times a day! And comments from the 4 year old often run along the lines of "Look mom! I can pee with no hands!")

After she opened the rest of the "survival" equipment she realized the wipes were in case she needed to take a pit stop on a hike or adventure.

Grandma and Grandpa did a good job though because Ash was stoked about her hydration pack (which is pink and just her size). She really enjoyed carrying my extra, adult sized pack on the last hike we went on (which of course she stuffed with emergency supplies) so I'm sure she'll get great use out of this one.

Ashlynn, you are the perfect mix of daring, not afraid to get dirty and explore girl, and fashionista. She must paint her nails before a hike, but then isn't afraid to get dirty, catch bugs, and climb rocks after the polish has dried.

Briggs: The Man of the House

2010-08-14T19:53:00.000-07:00

This afternoon as Kate and Brian were at a wedding reception Briggs was quietly coloring and I was reading on the couch. Ashlynn was trying to watch something on the TV but couldn't figure out how to get it set up. She called Briggs in to help her and they worked it out successfully.

When Briggs came back he asked me a question and I wish I could remember his exact wording. It was something like, "Why when Dad is gone does everyone act like I'm in charge?" Or he asked, "Why when Dad is gone does everyone come to me for help?" I think it was more like the former...

It only took me a second to realize he was referring to Ash needing his help with the TV. I told him it was because he was good at fixing things, it was his talent. If Briggs needed help getting dressed for a party, he would go to Ashlynn because that was her talent.

Briggs then said, "No, I can't fix everything. I can't fix a bike pedal." (I'm assuming he was referring to an episode earlier this week when he'd gotten his shoe lace hopelessly wound around his bike pedal and required an emergency intervention from Papa to get free...)

I explained that he was good at fixing things on the computer and TV's. He accepted that and said, "Yeah, I guess so. Like I know how to open and close things. And earlier today Ty got stuck on Mom's iPhone and I helped him get out of it."

So hopefully this little man has learned about one of his talents. But it was really a unique perspective I glimpsed when I momentarily pictured him as man of the house with Brian not there.

Meditation as defined by Briggs

2010-08-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

I was in the office at Kate's house studying for my final exam tomorrow (70% of my final grade) and Briggs was silently playing with his legos. I decided it would be best if I did a 5 minute meditation before continuing studying.

I explained to Briggs that I was going to lay down on the floor and relax and breathe a little before I resumed studying. He continued playing quietly.

Then Ty walks in and whispers very quietly to Briggs, "Briggth, Auntie's sleeping."

Briggs replied, "No, she's not sleeping, she's just...she's...doing body things before taking her test."

Apparently that was explanation enough for Ty. They were quiet until I got back up. Now they're playing legos loudly and I'm trying to study. Perhaps I should contemplate a relocation? After all, it is their house and their play things...

Horses are easier...

2010-08-11T22:34:00.001-07:00

Today I spent my afternoon volunteering at the local county Animal Shelter. On weekdays it's hard for them to get all the dogs walked because only the volunteers can walk them and there are few to no volunteers that are available on weekdays. Most of the dogs hadn't been walked in 2 days (remember they're in kennels about the size of a twin bed...).

So I started off with a nice, sweet 150 pound Pit Bull, Jake (all the Pits at the shelter are sweet or they wouldn't be there. I'm actually a little afraid of Pits myself but none at the shelter scare me so that's saying something.). I figured, hey, I can handle a 1500 pound horse, I can handle a 150 pound dog, right?

Wrong. I mean, I never lost control, but it was touch and go there a few times. Pit Bulls and Labradors have especially strong necks so they're good at pulling. In fact, Pits are used as service dogs to help disabled people in pulling tasks, such as taking out the trash cans, pulling someone up off the floor, etc.

With horses, it's all about leverage and position. You lean backwards at an almost 45 degree angle, dig an elbow into the horse, and you're fairly in control. The elbow is a nice deterrent to make the horse give you some space so you don't trip over it and to slow it down a little.
But when a dog barely clears the height of your knee, you can't use it as leverage so the whole leaning backwards thing is a double-edged sword. So sometimes I was straddling a dog (not the most balanced position) to keep it in control inside the kennel alleys.

The sad thing is that 75% of the large dogs that almost pulled me off my feet today only pulled until we got outside. Literally 3 feet from the gate there is a patch of soil and they all just let the flood gates go. They were mostly pulling because they had to pee so badly and were house trained enough that they were unwilling to soil their kennel.

One sweet dog was a known cat chaser so I was extra prepared with her. But man when we saw a squirrel in the distance, she was leaping like a dolphin. I thought a dog pulling from the ground was difficult to keep on leash, but when they're flying through the air that comes as a surprise. (Later on I got her to focus on me, sit, and she got a treat. So she's not an irredeemable dog...)

We survived though, and it was a great day, for dogs and people alike. All of them got a chance to do their business outside so extra time wasn't spent having to clean out the kennels. I will probably be so sore tomorrow I'll be disabled, but hey, all in the name of service. And man I'll sleep well tonight!

"Would you rather?" 6 year old style

2010-08-06T02:55:00.000-07:00

I was driving Briggs and his good friend, Harry, to Farmer's tonight when I heard the following conversation start up in the back seat. "Hey, do you want to play 'Would you rather?'"

I was a little concerned because of the worldly view I have of this game as an adult. (You know the game, where someone lists two events, both horribly undesirable, and you have to chose between them...)

I was about ready to step in and steer the conversation elsewhere when the first choice came up, provided by Briggs.

Briggs: "Harry, would you rather be stung by a bee or pinched by a lobster?"
Harry: "Ummm....stung by a bee...Ok Briggs, would you rather be stuck in a cage with three tigers or lick butter off a hobo's toe?"
Briggs: "How long would I be in the cage with the tigers?"
Harry: "Until you or the tigers died..."
Briggs: "Um, I'd choose the tigers anyway...Ok, Harry, would you rather sky dive or parachute?"
Harry: "Oh, parachute! Sky diving you just fall!"

I tried to step in and explain that parachuting and sky diving is the same thing but they ignored me and moved on to cages full of ostriches ("Wow, they could really peck you to death!"), falling off buildings vs. being stuck on an island with no shelter or food or water available, and other equally horrible things to the 6 year old imagination.

I eventually stayed out of the conversation and just enjoyed their innocence.

My pets are NOT taking over

2010-08-03T20:11:00.001-07:00

This one cracked me up. And I'm proud to say that while my cats may be the apple of my eye, they do not rule my life. They don't even sleep with me because my sleep is too important to me to have to be a contortionist around where they decide to lay (as many cat owners end up becoming).

Why I want orienteering classes

2010-07-28T22:54:00.000-07:00

Remember this post from not so long ago? This is what happened...

I had hiked to the "M" on Cerro San Luis Obispo (locally known as Madonna Mountain) with the kids once before, but early one morning, I wanted to hike all the way to the top.

I packed all my gear (my hydration pack filled, bug catching jars, layered clothing, camera, pocket knife in case I needed to slit the throat of a mountain lion, stupid Day Hikes book to ostensibly guide me along the trail, tissues, etc...) and set off at 6:20 in the morning (just slightly after daybreak).

I called someone I knew would be up that early and told them that if they didn't hear from me by a certain time, it meant I was hurt or murdered on Madonna Mountain and to call the Search and Rescue and give them my location. (This I learned from my second dad, Uncle L.) Turns out this was an unnecessary precaution because I passed at least 20 benign people on the trail at various points.

Just guess they weren't the right points! This is the path I think I took and I never did make it to the top. But I was only about 50 vertical feet below it! I think I went twice as far as the Day Hikes book said the hike was...

(Click to enlarge photo to see my stupidity in all it's glory...) Red is the path I took. Yellow is where I eventually realized I was going the wrong way and backtracked. Green is where I should have turned to get to the top. (Take the left fork at the top, not the right!) Fuchsia is the much shorter hike to the M (which is there because it's above Mission Prep school).

I saw people up at the top and thought, yay! Almost there! I was really enjoying the hike. It was beautiful and the sun was just starting to come out of the fog and I was having a happy feeling. Then I took the right fork (because of that Day Hikes book, which I've learned is really only good for telling you how to drive to the trail head and which hikes there are in your county...) and started going down an incline.

I thought, hmm, must be a short decline before you start going up again. Bishop's Peak, my usual hiking place, has this at one point so I thought nothing of it. But after about half a mile (yeah, I'm really slow at catching on...) I realized I had taken a wrong turn and was now going back down the mountain. But where to?! There are so many trail heads and trails along Madonna I had no idea where I was going (even though the mountain is practically in the middle of the city...).

Despite all my fear of the unknown, some things like this don't scare me and I was never worried along the hike, I figured it just would take me longer and I eventually would find some trail head. You can see the entire city from one half of the mountain (just not the half I was on at the time!)

Finally I met a very nice lady and her huge German shepherd and she gave me very good, detailed instructions. (Luckily she used lots of hand motions or I would have forgotten some of the turns she told me to take.) She told me I would end up at the Madonna exit and I would have to follow a small trail that parallels the freeway back to the Marsh street trail head where my car was parked.

I wasn't daunted by this because I at least knew where these two exits were, knew they were only a 1/2 mile apart, and that I could follow the freeway. (Plus the fog had receded again so I could finally see the city and follow, just barely, the streets she told me to use as guides).

Somewhere along the way I must have taken another wrong turn because I eventually ended up back on the trail that led me to the Marsh street trail head and I never got too close to Madonna exit...although I did see it. Which actually made me happier because I was back at my car earlier than I thought I would be!

But I did catch 4 insects for my collection along this hike and got some stellar (for my skills, at least) photos of the fog and Middle Earth looking scenery. So I don't regret it. I really don't think I've ever taken a hike and not gotten lost. Or more accurately, I don't think I've ever hiked the officially established route of any hike I've ever been on (all unintentionally, of course. I'm not an intentional rule breaker). I consider myself lost only when I don't know how to get back to where I began.

So under that definition, yeah, I got mega lost on this hike. The only thing I kick myself for is that for the first time in my hiking days, I didn't pack food of any kind. I always pack food. And by the near end, I really could have used the pick me up. I had plenty of water though.

But no regrets! Maybe eventually I'll share some of my favorite photos from it, if I can decide from the 300 which I like the best without making blogger crash. They're really best if watched while listening to Led Zeppelin's "Ramble On".

A tragedy of gastronomical proportions

2010-07-22T23:30:00.001-07:00

My doctor took me off all tomatoes and tomato based foods on Monday. For those of you that know me well, you know I loooove tomatoes. As a kid, my nickname was Maters. So this is kind of a blow. Like a really BIG blow. I've already planted three tomato plants, planning on making my own sauce later this summer. At least I know my neighbor will fully utilize them and I still get to enjoy growing them.

My IBS has been pretty bad lately, with flare-ups every week or so and that's just not acceptable. (I even had one at Rite-Aid and didn't have my cell phone so I couldn't call EJ to talk me down off the metaphoric ledge. It was pretty scary...)

So I'm keeping a food journal and slowly figuring out what works and what doesn't work for me.

I already knew that peppers (even sweet bell peppers) and onions were bad for me. She also instructed me to cut out canned foods, multi-grain products, pineapples, and foods with high acid content.There goes most of my diet...

So last night I had couscous with scrambled eggs. Oatmeal for breakfast this morning, and tonight I had mash sweet and russet potatoes (that was a yummy blend!) and cottage cheese with bananas.

IBS food triggers are different for everyone, but I plan on doing a little more research on diets that tend to work better for people with IBS.

Announcement!

2010-07-18T10:21:00.000-07:00

For my next million birthdays, Christmases, and "Just Because You Love Me" days I want full on, serious topo maps for every mountain and mole hill in San Luis Obispo county.

I also want a gift pass to orienteering classes.

My next post will make it evident why I want these things should you ever feel the need to gift me anything.

Troubling a star one ketchup packet at a time?

2010-07-16T23:25:00.001-07:00

Ej and I have this thing where we mail each other our unused ketchup packets from fast-food chains. The 'splanation is ridiculously long and not really funny unless you were there for the initial "mishap".

But I had a thought today. Am I affecting the price of my Big Mac by asking for ketchup that I know I won't use? It's similar to the rhetoric "It can't hurt if I drop one piece of trash. But if everyone dropped one piece of trash..." 1

My title, of course2, is a reference to a Madeleine L'Engle book, Troubling a Star. It basically revolves around the Butterfly effect. The title of the book is in itself a reference to Francis Thomson's poem "The Mistress of Vision".

As you can see from other posts, I worry about little actions and wonder if they have bigger consequences than I can foresee...perhaps a little too much.

1(By the way, I get I really annoyed when I see people litter...especially cigarette butts, and will often pick it up and hand it back to them, innocently saying, "Oh, here, you dropped this.")

2"Of course" because she's one of my favorite authors, not "of course" because everyone should know her works by heart like I do. But you should read them. Really. (Ahem....EJ!)

Welcome to Aspie Island

2010-07-16T05:09:00.000-07:00

One tip:

If I haven't blogged or talked to anyone in a while, it's probably because I've been busy at work, school, or some other project. And an Aspie gets a little one-track minded and puts all their energy into one project, forsaking all else, clueless to the consequences.

For example, I spent 5 days preparing for, then working in the field in the San Joaquin Valley in 110 degree weather putting in 12 hour days. So you didn't hear from me for a while.

For an Aspie, that means planning for and stressing that she packed for Every. Single. Contingency. (Which in this case happened to be a good thing because no one else bothered to pack water, Gatorade, or even a first aid kit, Sharpie pen, or pocket knife)

This kind of attention to detail means a lack of detail in other aspects of my life. All part of the Aspie life! But you love us all the same, right?

Your Dial Phone Repairman

2010-07-14T19:23:00.000-07:00

This is so awesome. My mom found this cleaning out my grandparents' (her parents) house.

My grandpa Dick (Richard Knight) worked for Pacific Bell for his whole career and retired sometime in the 80's. From what I remember being told, he was the one that serviced most of the phones in Corning (a small little town on I-5 about 30 minutes from Chico). He also was the man to install most of the private lines in the town, upgrading them from party lines. Mom said that because he worked for the phone company, their house had one of the first private lines in the town.

I do know that he installed the phone line at my paternal grandparent's ranch, also, so although they didn't know it, my parents have known each other since they were little kids.

Enjoy the small town article! Mom, next I wanna see you in a wheelbarrow!

A great day in the field!

2010-07-06T17:27:00.001-07:00

Not my photo

I'll post more details when I get back home but despite our REALLY late start (we didn't leave SLO until 9:45, got into our hotel at 11:30 and got up at 5. So I got 4.5 hours of sleep. And I was a blathering idiot most of the day.

But it ended up being a great field day, we got a lot accomplished, I learned a lot, contributed a lot, and got entrusted with the field notes notebook to make some additional entries.

Not my photo

Oh, and my photography "skills" have been called on again to capture the stage and size of the trees. Dr. X (I like calling her this) has grown to like my method of taking field notes. Because I'm not a Fruit Science major and I don't know what to call things that I see. Is that star breaker? Bud break? Early Fruiting? I don't know, but I've got a serviceable picture that won't win any awards but shows exactly what it looked like! And I've got a lot of them!

I'll tell you all about the project probably in the next day or so.

And as a final plus?! It only got up to 96 today as opposed to 110 last week! Little blessings, little blessings...

"No" and "I don't know"

2010-07-05T19:36:00.000-07:00

These are words that worked well for me today. Let me explain.

I find it funny that "no" is often one of the first words or motions a little kid learns. And then somehow, as we grow up, some of us de-learn this word and function.

I've been helping with a research grant (and getting paid for it...resume fodder, learning, and $$...what could be better!). But the more I got involved, the less the Grad student (who's project it is, I might add) got involved. I don't think I take charge or become controlling. I think with this particular person, he just asks and I say yes. And so he kept asking and asking and finally I became an enabler.

Because that's the kind of person I am. You ask me to do something and I say yes. Everyone else working on the project bailed and it increasingly fell to me to pick up the pieces and do the work. Which was overwhelming in the first place.
Then the grad student decided to go out of town for the weekend and not get back until the day we're supposed to leave for a 3 day project. And nothing had been planned. This in itself pushed me past my limit.

And it became, "Amanda, can you do this?" "Amanda, what do you think we should do about this?" And "We have 3 hours to do all this!!!"

I finally emailed my professor (who happens to be overseeing this grad student) and said, "I can't take this anymore. My anxiety has kicked it and I'm done." She knows me well and is very supportive and said, "Then take the day off. It's not your fault it was all left to the last minute and it's not your project. If it doesn't get done, it doesn't get done."

That helped about 50%. But then today we had to check out a truck (did I mention this is a holiday or most businesses and certainly the university are closed), buy 16 bottles to fill with distilled water, buy gloves, spray gear, measure out fertilizers, buy a funnel, wash leaves, and who knows what else.

Dr. X recognized again I wasn't doing well and sent me off to collect the items we needed to get me away from the hot zone. Up until 5pm today (the day we're supposed to leave) we had no idea when we'd even be able to leave. And that also is one of my triggers. When are we leaving??? Will I have prepared enough food? Will I have packed the right clothes?

And I didn't know if I'd have to wear full on spray gear, which meant packing one type of clothing, or packing a completely different wardrobe.

Speaking of my wardrobe, I have gained weight again. Thank you, Depekote. First the Abilify added 20 pounds, now the Depekote adds 10 at least. I have no clothes that fit me. So I had to buy a couple pairs of pants that would work as field pants and also as regular "I'm a clean, upstanding citizen" pants.

Finally, I finished finding the stupid refrigerator boxes we needed (that was the final straw for me) and I got dinner. It was going to take 2 hours to fill all 16 bottles and it could only be done one at a time so I just sat there in the parking lot, away from prying eyes, and ate. No one needed me, and I didn't need to show up and ask, "What more can I do?"

It was a joy to just sit there, almost defiantly and eat. (Think of Emily Gilmore defying her mother in law). Then when I made it back to the lab I got asked, "How do you think we should do this?"

I started to stress out. I thought, "I don't know! I don't even know what "this" is!" Then I just said, "I don't know." Magical words, those. He immediately said, "Ok, I'll figure it out or call Dr. X."

So I am mostly relaxed now, watching blue jugs fill slowly with water, and waiting for everyone else to show up so we can leave.

I've learned a lesson. Stop suggesting things when asked, and say, "No" or simply, "I don't know."

PS: What is it about water and peace? Maybe if we poured a ton of water on the middle east that could be our war solution? Sorry for the rant, by the way. It was more of a cathartic post than anything.

I'm bothered...

2010-06-28T22:41:00.000-07:00

I'm bothered by the fact that I'm going on a field work day for a research project and not driving. The reasons why this bothers me is as follows:

Not being able to bring a trunk full of food (usually a 5 days supply)
Not being able to share said 5 day's supply of food with other, less prepared workers (one guy got heat stroke today)
Not being able to bring all the Gatorade I had planned and will probably need
Not being able to bring my box of tools and equipment
Being without my own mode of transportation makes me anxious, just in case I have to escape without notice.
Not being able to find my second bandanna (you need one to soak with water and wear under your hat for your very own swamp cooler and you need a second to blow your nose on and wipe other things off you...)
I don't have my super cool, specially made Stanford aprons that have pockets in all the right places and are made out of ship sail cloth so they're super strong.

My typical field outfit

Another reason to be bothered is that we're leaving at 5 in the morning so we can beat the heat. Again, the guy that went today got heat stroke from trying to get 50 trees done in 100 degree weather so the plan is to get there early and be done by 1:30pm.

I'm not bummed because:

I'm getting paid by the hour for this
He's learned his lesson and we'll supposedly be done by 1:30 pm (I wonder if I end up in the hospital from heat stroke if they'll pay for the emergency room hours, too???)
I don't have to do the the driving (I hate driving long distance)
My car doesn't have to put the mileage on it
I will be able to read, sleep, and eat my breakfast while we drive there. Or maybe even study some.
I'm not in charge. If the grad student who's project this is didn't plan all his tools and baggies and labelers, then I still get paid. (This will be hard for the obsessive planner in me but oh well)
I talked to my big sister and planned how I'm getting to and from the family reunion in Washington. This took such a load off my mind and I didn't even realize it was stressing me out!
I have white towels I'll bring for my built-in air conditioning (ie: wet cloth under the hat)

I've already packed all my food, personal tools that I know I'll want (field gloves, bandanna, broad-brimmed breathable hat, vials for collecting bugs for my on-going entomology project, money, pocket knife, first aid kit), and set out my clothing. Now it's time to sleep because I have to be up at 4am (that's Tuesday and for most of you that are reading this, today).

Full gear backpack sprayer...

Pray for me. I'm not a fan of the San Joaquin Valley and its heat. And I'm not really a fan of hard manual labor. Thankfully we're just collecting leaves today, not actually spraying anything. I don't know if I could last a full day carrying a back-pack sprayer.

I feel much less stress having verbalized this. Thank you for reading my rant.

Moderation? Not likely!

2010-06-26T21:43:00.000-07:00

My setup, with various lights, two tripods, two cameras, a chair for standing on to be able to see the camera display, chairs to prop things on, and a LiCor made in 1973. The Dr Pepper was missing in this photo.

I have sadly only been getting about 4 hours of sleep a night so on Friday I was ready to work by 6am. It took me a while to pack everything I needed and then I biked to school (with a really heavy backpack).

By work, I mean working on my senior project, writing a How-To manual for a really complicated machine that I've devoted the last 18 months getting to know on a really intense level. (And apparently I'm the only one on campus who knows how to use it. Probably because I'm one of the few on campus that knows it exists, even though it's a really powerful piece of equipment.)

And any good How-To manual needs pictures, lots of them. So I started taking pictures of all the buttons, the keyboard, the wires, cables, tubes, and switches on the machine. What tubes go where, which way the switches are supposed to be toggled. Having remembered what it was like when I started from scratch on this machine, I knew in-depth pictures were needed.

A nice guy at Media Services (the Cal Poly place to check out all kinds of tech equipment for free) introduced me to tripods. I'm in love. With the tripod, anyway. I learned a ton about photography and got about 200 photos of just the hardware itself. And they all turned out WAY better than the ones I took last year free-hand.

On an overcast day, I need to borrow two kids to help me take pictures of the LCD screen in action. It has polarized plastic so the sun distorts the image enough to not photograph well.

This is the best I can get inside the lab or outside on a sunny day. Not very helpful...

I tried taking pictures myself on Friday when it was still overcast, but I had to push buttons on the machine, hold the chamber on a leaf, and work the camera all at once. It didn't work. So eventually I will impress Ashlynn and Briggs into helping me. Now we just have to wait for an overcast day again.

This was the best I could get. I needed 3 arms that were each 5 feet long to press all the buttons and hold all the equipment I needed to...Plus extendable eyes to be able to make sure I'm pushing the right buttons, have the camera focused correctly, and the chamber and leaf arranged properly...Maybe Fred and George can help me with that...

After I biked home (with an even heavier backpack because I brought home more field notes) at 6:30 pm (yes, I'd been in the lab for 11 hours) I tried Photoshopping some of the photos. Let's just say Photoshop is going to have a steep learning curve for me. And I learned that I'll need to retake a few photos. But hey, I learned and it was fun.

I waxed artistic at the end of the day when it clouded up again. This is Via Carta Rd that was newly redesigned last year.

I intended this post to be more peppy and excited, because yesterday I was really having fun, learning all about photography and such. But today I'm wiped because, well, I worked very actively for 12+ hours and then biked home with a 20+ pound backpack. Actually, now that's I've spent over an hour working on this post, I am excited about it again. But ready for bed. Luckily last night I got 12 hours of sleep.

But have I learned my lesson about moderation? Not a bit.