Saturday, April 24


When I got my cap and gown from the Hinckley Center, I still had my hot roller-curlers in my hair. The employees helping me bet me $30 to go to commencement wearing the hot rollers. I told them the least I'd do it for would be $75. They couldn't get enough people to raise the money but the offer was still on the table. tempting, very tempting.

My grandpa shumway was able to come.

This is me as I was walking into the Marriot for commencement. I got a bloody nose during Elder Christofferson's talk so I had to walk over a row of graduates and climb up a hundred stairs to get to the bathroom. how embarrassing!

Lucky I had Kath to stand in line with and sit by! We thought of going to the same college to "walk" together...just as a joke. We didn't end up doing it.

New Zealand Graduates! We'll change the world, one school at a time.

Wednesday, April 21


I recently found out that my dad hates our dog's name.

Every time he has a client come over for a meeting and Daisy barks at them coming in, my dad quickly excuses her as: "My wife's dog"

"You know you've been around a lot recently when Daisy doesn't bark at you when you come over" -A friend

Daisy doesn't usually bark at females

She spends most of her time upstairs on her folded up mattress pad my parents assembled for her. But once she hears someone's in the kitchen, you hear her come running. And she follows you around the kitchen. You're by the fridge, she's right there with you. Opening a can of tuna? Her favorite. She's right at your heels. We should have named her shadow.

I refuse to reinforce this "shadow" behavior, so I have taught her to lie down in the next room. And she will, no matter how I say it, she knows to leave me alone. If she is patient and I am no longer irritated by her breathing down my I award her with the empty can of tuna or whatevs before I leave the kitchen area.

I saw shitzu pups for sale at a local grocery store and thought of how my mom has ALWAYS wanted a shitzu. Instead we got Daisy. I guess we'll keep her.

She's 77 in dog years. that's 11 adult years.

lousy pics, I know. But I had to show a side shot to capture the essence of this dog's mass.
(Cute nephews, though, right? christmas 09.)

Monday, April 19


I allowed my existence to be forgotten
as I sunk into the small bud I once was,
remembering the springtime of childhood.
Spent in the boughs of apple trees
with a friend.
That was our kingdom, where shoes were a disgrace
and clean knees sparing lines of green never lasted.
The smell of dirt, the sting of a scratch,
the taste of the milk-white ends of grass
accompanied our simple symphony of laughter

I'm Reading this book (no spoilers)

I decided to do this new thing. Where I will start reading a book without reading the summary on the back or the reviews or ANYTHING. It's so tempting but it gives me a nice clean slate so I don't expect or predict anything prematurely.

Funny how different this approach is from my mom's, who reads the LAST CHAPTER of the books she reads before she is even halfway through. It's like starting elementary school and deciding to go to college real quick to be sure it's worth the effort.

Ok now that I've used that analogy I guess it kind of makes sense but IT'S SUICIDE.