Me the Colon

Time today to follow all kinds of links, and found this, kind of fun.

You Are a Colon

You are very orderly and fact driven. You aren't concerned much with theories or dreams... only what's true or untrue. You are brilliant and incredibly learned. Anything you know is well researched. You like to make lists and sort through things step by step. You aren't subject to whim or emotions. Your friends see you as a constant source of knowledge and advice. (But they are a little sick of you being right all of the time!) You excel in: Leadership positions You get along best with: The Semi-Colon

What Punctuation Mark Are You?

In Memory of Nephi Emanuel Quist, my Grandpa

28 May 1923-18 April 2008
For the previous three or so weeks before his passing, Grandpa had been ill and in the hospital, but we didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold out. So with this, we are both happy for his leaving his pain, but also sad, as we are when anyone leaves us. My Grandma, though, especially needs the prayers right now because her health and mental abilities are not doing well and we know Grandpa stayed alive in part to help take care of her.

Some of my memories of Grandpa:
Most recently, I'm glad that I was able to visit my grandparents a year ago Christmas. That was the last I was able to see him in mortality. Prior to that was in 2003 at a family reunion, but I didn't have a lot of one-on-one with him then. At Christmas in 06, I had quite a bit of time with him and heard some wonderful stories about different jobs he had, about how he met my Grandma, and some about my dad growing up as well. He was in the Canadian Air Force at the end of WWII, at the time my father was born. Grandma had to ride the train alone and pregnant across Canada, Prince Edward Island to Alberta, after they got married so she could be with family while he did his last tour. But she loved that ride in spite of any sickness she had. I can only imagine how pretty that would be.

During most of my father's growing up years, he wa a police officer for the city of Calgary, Alberta , but the city wasn't nearly as big at that time. As the city grew though, he said one of the factors toward his leaving the force was when he had to start calling the punks he arrested "sir." But when I saw him that Christmas, he mentioned some problems he had in being promoted to detective based on the prejudiced incompetence of one of his overseers. I think I have the story written down, but I don't remember it off hand. It seems he actually retired after 26 years in the force and was a detective, so I'm not sure how all the stories come into play. I tried to write as many of the stories as I could when I was up there, but didn't really want to be taking dictated notes either, since I wanted to enjoy the time just for what it was, with them.

While I was there, they took me to Waterton, a nearby wilderness park on the border of the US, where the deer roam free. It was beautiful! We did get to see some deer and some even got close enough we could have touched their noses, but my dad's cousin's wife who was with us, advised us not to touch them. So we didn't.

As I was growing up, he and Grandma lived on a large plot of land in Rocky Mtn House, Alberta--on the farm as we called it, though I'm not sure they did much farming. The land was dense with trees , a little marshy, and basically rugged--perfect for 4 wheeling, which I did once at least with an uncle. It was beautiful up there. Did I say that already? There were two houses on that property, with just enough room for a goat cage between them. Grandpa built both of them. He also built a few more houses, including one for his mother. When I was little, it was just the one, log-cabin-type but he built the bigger one when they needed a little more room--Grandma and he needed separate bedrooms and they could finally afford for her to have a nice big kitchen. After they moved into the bigger house, my aunt Denise and her young family moved into the smaller one so they were close when we had reunions. That was nice.

I don't know that I ever had long one-on-one conversations with him when I was little, but I liked being in the room where the grown-ups talked and heard plenty of stories about his hunting exploits with my uncles. Grandpa could tell those stories up with some nice exaggeration, but otherwise he was basically a humble, quiet man. When I could be with him, I enjoyed rubbing his head--he kept the military cut or better-- forever; his head was like a day-old beard--nice and prickly. But he would always ask how I was and he remembered things about me. I knew he loved me a lot.

A few times they came down to Colorado to visit us and I remember how excited we'd be to get up in the morning to find him and Grandma on the hide-a-bed. I'm not sure all of us kids in the bed with them was really good for those springs, but it was a lot of fun anyway.

Some of my favorite memories, though, would again have to be at my recent trip to see them. I could feel how much he loved my Grandma, how he talked about her, how he helped her out, how patient he was in reminding her she'd heard things already--she's lost her short-term memory so you have to tell her things several times and hope she still remembers.

And then this one story he told stuck out too, which has been helpful as I've dealt with some hurtful times. He had hired a man he knew well, an old friend, to do some labor in his house and the man had done a really shoddy job and Grandpa'd had to hire someone else to fix it. It sounded like an aggravating situation, but Grandpa said he held absolutely no animosity for him. He wouldn't hire him to do another job, but he felt no bad feelings for him.

I'm grateful for the example and the love of this great man in my life and thankful to my Heavenly Father that I was able to spend the nice week with him last Christmas. What a great blessing.

Last Saturday, my roommate and I were babysitting a couple little boys--one little who can't speak and the other about 4 or 5. To help the older one find something he could do, I was looking in a bin I have for some coloring books or something and I happened to have one of Grandpa's pull-toys in the bin. He's been carving nice simple wood toys for the past several years, giving many to his great grandchildren and to a place that gives them to children in Africa, I think. I had a nice little tour of his woodshop when I was up there, too, and he talked to me about it for awhile. I even helped to draw in the eyes and noses on some of his recent creations.

Anyway, the little boy asked what it was and so I let him play with it and told him my Grandpa made it. He asked when he would make another one. I said he was dying so he probably wouldn't make any more. His cute simple response was that Jesus died and he came alive again so everyone could be happy--something like that. It was a sweet reminder. When Grandpa is alive again, he can make some more pull-toys! :) And I'll get to spend some more quality time with him when he's in a better physical state. It was nice for that little emotional release at that time since I hadn't talked about it much with friends or anything. Such blessings from the young and innocent as well as from the old. Yes, we need people in all the ages of life to help our testimony and to help us in the sojourn on Earth. Such a wise Heavenly Father to make that possible for us.

Chewing Gum in the House

As I was exiting the metro station, I paused at the trash can and considered throwing out my gum before proceeding to my car. Then I shook my head and kept going. Why would that make a difference? I've chewed gum in my car before. I'm not sure why I thought it, or had that reaction, but it did remind me of a funny thing when I was at home for Christmas this year. My mother offered me a piece of gum... in our house! You're thinking, so what? Well, in our house when we were kids, we were not allowed to chew gum. I always thought my mother hated and despised it, though I knew it had to do with some accidents. But I thought she loathed it all together. Anyway, it took me by surprise when she offered it to me, especially in the house.

Maybe because I was the only child at home, I was having subliminal feelings that she was doing something special for me, something I couldn't tell the others. So I laughed out loud, and teased her about it. "You're offering me gum? In the house? I'm telling!" She excused herself that that was only a rule for children. I wasn't a child any more, was I? Of course not, and I still took the gum, and even though whichever one of my siblings I told didn't appreciate it as much as I did either, I still thought it was funny.

So anyway, back to today. After I passed the trash can and continued on my way toward my car, I reflected on this story and some broader picture ideas came to my head. Are there commandments that are only for children and some that are only for adults? For more mature spirit children and less mature spirit children? Okay, so that train of thought didn't get too far, because the only connection I could come up with is that scripture that says we get more commandments when we keep the first ones, or something like that. Boy, what a scripture scholar I am! Anyway, so that might kind of imply that I still shouldn't be chewing gum in the house.

But the truth is that as I've matured, I have had more rules about the house--maybe not my parents' house, actually less there. But more about my own--like paying the rent on time, having a job so I can pay the rent, keeping up a bank account so I can pay the rent, having a car--paying car payments, insurance, taxes, etc so I can get to the metro :) so I can get to work, so I can pay the rent--you get the idea. Cleaning up after myself, cleaning up for other people sometimes--well I had to clean as a kid, but not usually the whole shabang. Yea, being an adult has some rules that kids don't.

So maybe it's okay and maybe we do lose some of the commandments or rules as we get older--they're just helping us get there--keeping the gum out of the hair so I can look presentable when I get to work, so I can keep the job and pay the rent and feed the fly that sits on the wart on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole of the bottom of the house that Jack built. I think I can handle chewing gum in the house now.

Sandals!

Today, I put on a new short-sleeved shirt that I got for Christmas (I asked for summer shirts because I was low on them, even though it was winter at that time, what can I say?), and since it was black and white, I wore my black pants. And then since I was wearing basically black all over, I couldn't wear my normal brown shoes or navy shoes. I had to wear black shoes. And since they're in the closet where I keep shoes I don't wear as much, I happily surprised myself when I saw that I had some other black shoes that I could wear today--sandals! Yippee, yeah, yeah! It's sandal weather! I guess that comes with short-sleeved shirts, but since my sandals are black, I hadn't thought of it til now! And you know what the best thing about sandals is, don't you? You don't have to wear socks! That means I can sleep in an extra minute because I don't have to rummage through the sock drawer to find some that match. But I probably shouldn't tell myself that, because, as I just mentioned, sleeping in and having to drive to the metro is already a problem. So, now I um, can get up at the same time and maybe make it to the bus on time because I don't have to rummage...yah dah yah day....

Another Tag!

A!nne Marie tagged me again!

Here we go!

1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
Can I remember that far back? April of 1998, hmm. I was graduating from BYU! 17th? Don't remember exactly, but it could very well be the anniversary. Graduation's usually the middle of the month. I had actually finished classes in December but couldn't figure out how to do the whole register to graduate thing. In high school, it was taken care of for you! Well, I also had thought about finishing the minor in French, but without any money, I didn't think I was justified getting a loan for that. Oh well.

2. 5 things on your to do list today:
-Do a blog posting or two, including this one
-Pass some levels on this Drawing computer game--don't remember what it's called. I know, lofty ambitions.
-Try to work on Part II of my novel again--maybe I'll blog more about that.
-Read the scriptures
-Read some book(s) in preparation for classes this summer
Maybe I should have done this yesterday. I had more things to do then. But today was slow at work because everyone was telecommuting to avoid Pope traffic.

3. Snacks I enjoy:
chocolate chip cookies--cookies
Twix
salad with fruit in it
tortilla chips
Wheat Thins

4. What would I do if I were suddenly a billionaire?
Pay off my debts, finish school, maybe get another degree that I've been considering and not feel too guilty about it. Since I was little and this question was asked, I've always said pay off my parents house. I don't think they have too much further, but I guess I'd still do that. And then maybe buy my own house, put some in some secure savings and stuff, and give a lot to good charitable causes.

5. 3 bad habits:
eating too many snacks
Sleeping in and having to drive to the metro
buying too many books

6. 5 places I've lived
Loveland, CO
Calgary, AB
Le Havre, France
Rouen, France
Provo, UT

7. 5 jobs I've had:
-administrative assistant
-editor, special ed seminary teacher training manual
-research assistant, history of rhetoric
-day care/preschool teacher
-copyright go-to, (I would say specialist, but I've been told only lawyers can say that), School of Language Studies, Foreign Service Institute

8. 5 things people don't know about me:
I guess it depends on which people :)
-sometimes I throw books away
-I had a blue frisbee in high school; our senior year, I used to play on the lawn in front with one of my friends during lunch and some sophomores teased us.
-I love collecting T-shirts
-The only time I ever watched conference on temple square (back in Tabernacle days), I fell asleep and didn't get much out of it. But hey--these were non-ticket days, too--we were in line very, very early in the morning to get in.
-Every once in awhile I dye my hair just a little bit blonder.

I don't know who my regular readers are or if they have their own blogs, so if you have one-consider yourself tagged !

Published!

I got an email this weekend saying my poetry submission was accepted for a journal at San Diego State University. They were looking for poems and short stories for children 10-14 with a theme of "Night Rhythms" and what do you know, I actually had one of those! I've actually been working on this for a long time. Should I tell you how long? Anyway, most recently I had a version critiqued last summer at Hollins and when I saw the call for writing, I took upon myself to make some of the suggested changes, and some others as well. What do you think?

Pacific Waves
To see, to see…
anything but pomegranate paws
laced with cold steel fingernails
scraping on the baseboard in the dark.
She sits up in her basement level bunk bed,
stringing in the curtains for her sails.

The frame rattles in time with the whirring
of the water heater in the storage room next door,
whirring, wearing, worrying.
The ghosts have already dirtied
the powdered milk with sketches of their names
(They can only come if she asks)
hovering, hoping, and whispering

pleas...Before the water escapes…
Before she floats through the window
and out to sea...
She’ll ride Pacific waves
through Hawaii and the Seychelles
and maybe into Singapore,
Where snores will transform into lullabies
and sing a poor girl to sleep.

Are You My Mother?

I turned on King Kong somewhere in the middle so I could be entertained while folding some laundry and had some interesting insights. First, I was really surprised at the obvious lay-overs--what are they called? melding of two images. The line "No one will believe these aren't real" was hilarious. Then, do people survive if they get caught in the middle of an elephant stampede? How on earth did only 4 not live through a stampede of brontosauruses, in a narrow ravine, where they all ended up piling on top of each other? Seriously.

But the most interesting observation came when they switched over to the King Kong dude with the woman. I couldn't help but think as the big ape loomed over her that people think we descended from this species. How on earth did that happen? I'm guessing King Kong is probably a man, but still the phrase "Are you my mother?" came to mind. Seriously. As the book goes, when the object or being doesn't respond in the language of the baby, the answer is no.

I read or heard once that Adam and Eve were two of the most if not the most robust people ever to live--physically just about perfect, exactly what was needed to begin the human race. So, how could apes have progressed to a perfect physical state only to have the human form gradually become not so perfect? It just doesn't make sense. I'm definitely no biologist or great student of the possibilities of evolution. I remember reading some proven scenarios of survival of the fittest such among some butterfly species, but I'm not so sure that can really explain progression to the perfect state. Anyone? Something just doesn't add up.

Spring Just Keeps Getting Better

Some photos from my walk today at lunch. Sometimes I wonder how the world would be if everything blossomed all at once. That is, I can imagine how amazing some pictures would be.
But I think there's wisdom in having things come in their own time. For example, some of the photos might be discordant, having too many colors and shapes involved--a little like the combination of these three pictures. But also, I think some of the small things might need their own attention. We might otherwise overlook the individual beauty of some flowers, because they would be masked by the beauty of others. And, spring lasts a little longer, too, as everything comes in its season, right?

Beware of Find and Replace!

So here I am, working along reading my thesis, round 3 I call it, and finding all kinds of typos. I think I mentioned before I kind of expected that. Otherwise, it's actually going pretty well. I mean, I am embarrassed that I've sent this to a few people to look at, since it's more than just typos--other word choices and minor points. But I am pleased to find myself now on p. 143 and I haven't found anything that needed serious re-writing, like things that would affect the plot in multiple locations. That's progress I think. And really, p. 143 on day two of round 3 is actually pretty good anyway.

As I read through it though, I can't help but recall some remarks I recently read in an intro to Les Miserables where the editor comments on how wonderful they are for being the only publisher to stay true to Hugo's desires by publishing an unabridged English edition. I haven't actually read too far in the novel yet, but from what I know about it, I can only say that yes, there is value in having the unabridged edition, but I really believe that if Hugo had had a Word Processor, things might have been a little different. Seriously, how did authors ever get by before they couldn't just click "Find" and get to a part of their novel they knew needed a little revision? I mean, if they had decided to change a character or a place's name at some point in their writing, that's pretty serious paper usage to go back and change it. I would guess such changes didn't happen too often.

Writing definitely gives you a new perspective on writers of the past. However, that is not to say there aren't dangers of modern technologies! For example, if I had printed up my thesis after round 2 and handed it to my professor it would not only have been the simple typos that embarrassed me. I mean, I found some things that simply did not make sense. And why did they not make sense? Because I used a Word Processor function called Find and Replace!

See, at one point in my novel, some of the characters are discussing a few different dance halls. One of them I had originally named Plash, and then in round 2, I changed it to Pier One. How? Find and replace. Well, as it so happened, I forgot to narrow the find to "match case" so it would only change it when the P was capitalized. As a result, in a few places where I have the word "splash" such as when a character observes things going on in the swimming pool and when another character ends up in the botany pond, I had things like this, "I held the bars of the surrounding fence for a second to watch as the basketball sPier Oneed back and forth between the water and the people" and "Sam’s large form plopped into the water with a weighty sPier One."

It looks kind of like subliminal advertising, doesn't it? So yeah. Beware of Find and Replace!

Other Conference Thoughts, Elder Scott

For as long as I remember, Elder Scott has been known for his piercing gaze--the way he looks through the teleprompters right into your eyes--no, not the audience's, yours. He knows you and loves you and has a message for you. He has a nice steady and compassionate voice, too, that makes those sometimes pills easier to swallow. For that, his choice to talk about abuse and address it both to the abused and the abuser seemed interesting, and I think he did it very well.

The sad difference this time though seemed that he's aging and his eyes are dimming. He still did his best, and even turned completely away from the teleprompters at one point, looking off to his right to talk to the audience, someone in the audience over there. It was a powerful moment, but interesting because it didn't seem to have the same impact of feeling that he was talking directly to me, which was fine since I don't think I was implicated in what he was saying. But in essence, it still had the same effect. He knew the person he was talking to, loved them, and had a message for them.

Changes in Presidents of the Church

Changes in the position of the president of the Church haven't generally been easy for me. When I was growing up and in primary, the prophet was Pres. Kimball. I loved the song where we sang all the latter-day prophets and though I don't know that I knew much about what he taught, I knew I loved Pres. Kimball. As I've gotten older, I have become more aware of his teachings and I still love him.

President Kimball died when I was 12 or 13, however, so I had to learn to accept a new prophet. Though I'd been made aware of the procedures of the change when a prophet died, and I even knew President Benson would be the next prophet because I learned a few years earlier that he was the senior apostle and all that (and quite proud to know that, too, I'll add) well, it was still kind of hard to adjust to the change. Before long, I learned to love President Benson too. I remember when I was a young woman the balloon thing and his challenge for us to read the Book of Mormon. That influenced and continues to influence me and my testimony in very positive ways--I still read the Book of Mormon every day. And throughout my adolescence I continued to learn more from his teachings and have been blessed for following them. I love President Benson.

When President Benson passed away I was in my 20s, attending BYU, and I was much more aware of the whole process of things at that point. I even knew ALL of the twelve apostles by name, not just the senior apostle, Pres. Hunter. Perhaps because of that, I learned to love Pres. Hunter before he became the prophet, if only from watching him maintain his calm and handle the situation with Cody Judy at the CES fireside at BYU some short time before Pres. Benson died. I felt the Spirit in that meeting testifying he was a prophet and would be a great president. And indeed, that transition wasn't as hard for me. But Pres. Hunter didn't live long after that, less than a year. Still, during that time he taught some great things and I have kept my temple recommend with me and up-to-date partly because of his teachings about the temple. I love President Hunter.

Of course I was familiar with President Hinckley since he had been around in leadership for so long. I also remember talks that he gave at BYU, and he had touched me with his talks about optimism during a time when I really needed that. But for some reason, it still took me a little while to warm up to him as the prophet. But of course it happened, as it always has. There are so many things I love about President Hinckley now.

But now, some 14 years later, now in my 30s, I'm experiencing the change again. Interestingly, I had been anticipating President Monson for quite awhile, probably not as early as when Pres. Kimball was prophet, but at least by my 20s when I learned how young he was. There was no question in my mind that he would be the prophet some day. And so I've spent several conferences listening to him trying to imagine him as the president of the church, perhaps trying to warm myself early this time. Yet for some reason, although they were fine and good and great and all that for the first counselor, none of his talks before really struck me as what I expected from THE prophet.

So, when President Hinckley did pass away, even as much as I loved President Monson before, I'll confess it's felt a little weird to adjust to him in this new role. But I've had a lot of mixed emotions during all of the funeral proceedings and news and whatnot about President Hinckley, feeling also that there was too much attention paid to him as a man and perhaps to the diminishment of other great men and not acknowledging the mantle as much as they should have. I think that's just the nature of the media and natural proceedings when a great man passes away.

Yesterday, during the solemn assembly, I was grateful for the Spirit I felt sustaining me and confirming to me the Lord's will in the changes. But as I watched conference all day yesterday I still noticed how much I missed having President Hinckley around, conducting one or two of the sessions and ending sessions with a few of his remarks, his unique and wonderful sense of humor and his great attitude. His simple presence. I really missed him.

However, I also had a wonderful experience when the first session ended this morning. When President Monson spoke, I could feel the positive feelings and acceptance of him as the President, and see or feel the mantle of prophet on him. It was a good feeling, something I hadn't imagined and can't describe, but there was a definite difference between his talk and those he's been giving for the many, many years before now. It was nice, too, then, in the afternoon session when Elder Holland began his remarks to make note of that feeling in himself and his indication that many others had felt it too. What a blessing the Lord has given us all to adjust to change, to be able to see and feel that difference! He knows change is hard, not just on me but on a lot of people! Even another apostle. And we need those manifestations. And of course, it's also a testimony that there really is something different, very special and true about having a prophet, a spokesman for the Lord on the Earth today. I love President Monson. But most importantly, I love the Lord Jesus Christ, the head of the Church.

Spies

So you know, whoever you are, I'm spying on you as much as you're spying on me! I'm actually not too worried about it. I've just found it curious. Google has this cool application called analytics that I learned about at work when someone asked me to check the visit status of a few of their sites, ad pages. Well, I thought that would be cool to apply to my own site and so I did! And now I know how often people visit my site and even the city they're from--except Australia. It only gave me the country in that case. I'm not sure why.

But otherwise, you in Indonesia, and you in Brazil and Chile and Spain, I saw that you came to see me. I'm just not sure why so many of you came on the 20th of March. Miracles on Maple Hill was a good book, but hm. I guess it's also curious because I haven't been adding tags to my posts, though perhaps there's a degree of autogeneration? I don't know. I'm not terribly terribly web savvy.

But really, if you liked what you read, come back! Let me know you stopped by with a vote on my current poll or leaving a comment--even if it has to be "anonymous." Although the other possibility that crossed my mind was that maybe blogspot just sends out general site checkers. That doesn't make a lot of sense, but seriously I'm curious why people in these countries would choose to come here. I only speak French! But no one from France has stopped by :(. The other curious thing is that it indicates no one from Canada has stopped by, and yet I'm pretty sure some of my relatives from yonder North country have, since that was indicated in my last poll.
Hmm.