Publishing

I am very excited to announce a breakthrough in my career-oriented endeavors. The editor of a local arts magazine replied today to my suggestion to him that I could volunteer as a proofreader. It feels like I've been trying to get started in this direction for a long time. It's a relief to have something definite to show for my efforts.

In other news, this past weekend I went tubing with the youth of our stake. We drove for more than an hour to this place, which was near a city named Cherokee. I was interested to see what would be in the city of Cherokee, since I possibly have ancestors from that tribe of Native Americans. Unfortunately, and I should have seen this coming, the biggest attraction in Cherokee was the casino. That was a bit sad.

But I did get a chuckle from the motel across the street from the casino. The hotel's marquee said, "Can walk to the casino", or something like that. The sign was literally 30 feet from the casino, which was about 20 stories high and had the word "CASINO" written in huge letters across the front. " I think that hotel needs to do some marketing research.

The other really different thing I noticed about Cherokee was the crosswalks. On a stretch of very tourist-y road about 400 feet long were about 10 crosswalks spaced about 15 feet apart. I could not understand what necessity drove the city to put that many crosswalks on that street. Any ideas anyone?

Oh, and as for the tubing, that was fun. My tube, naturally, was the only one that went flat. And the water level in the creek wasn't very high, so on top of having a slow leak, I kept hitting rocks and further flattening my tube. It was fun, though. It was doubly fun because I was there by myself, sans husband, sans baby. They spent the day together, apparently successfully, because when I came home everybody was happy and there was no permanent damage done to either the house or the baby. It was a rare occasion for Jon to spend the day alone with Adara, and he did great. I think I'll have to leave the two of them alone together more often now . . .

That's Entertainment

Yesterday we had one of our first video calls with Adara's Poppy and Nana Wilson. Everybody is tickled to get to see each other and talk at the same time.
This is Adara's favorite kitchen toy. When I'm cooking or cleaning in the kitchen, this is usually what she does. Well, this and also put random things in the cupboards. I found a shoe of hers inside the frying pans the other day. Lovely. Reminds me of fairy tales and eating boiled leather soles.


On Friday night we went to a free Shakespearean festival. This month they are performing "As You Like It." It was good, if obviously short of funds. The costumes mixed various time periods, but don't ask me to guess which time periods those are. The only one I can identify for sure is the modern one. For the most part, I thought the modern clothes fit in well and did not distract from the performance; however, when Orlando came on-stage at one point wearing ear phones and singing "We are the Champions", I thought that was a bit distracting.

Otherwise, the inclusion of modern and local North Carolina cultural elements added a unique flavor to the performance. I especially liked the banjo player who strolled and plucked around the stage during scene changes. Very fitting for the setting we were in.

Bouncing off the Walls

Today I had my first motherhood experience with the expression "bouncing off the walls".

Adara is not a stable child. Normally, I would only mean that in the context of the inner-ear. If I had a nickel for every time she hit her head on something or fell over nothing, I would use it to buy her a crash helmet. As it happened, she improvised one this morning.

Putting the blanket over her head, Adara ran blindly into the high wooden end of her crib, propelling herself backward for several steps before collapsing on the mattress, then repeating the process ad nauseum before she finally fell asleep for her nap.

It reminded me of football linebackers practicing with crash pads to block their opponents. At least they have sense to use the pads. But knowing that my 15-month-old has the same amount of sense as a football linebacker is a little bit concerning. No offense intended for any linebackers who may be reading this. I know football players are really smart and the stereotype is intended to get people off the players' backs - I mean that figuratively of course.

Look at it this way: a lot of college football players major in philosophy. Every time I tell someone that I majored in philosophy, they say, "Wow, you're really smart." So I guess now we know what Adara inherited from me. Maybe one day she will join the football team . . . or major in philosophy.

P.S. Sorry for not having any pictures. I can't find my camera.

Groovin'

These are just some videos from the last two weeks. The one with Adara on the whale is mostly for the benefit of her Poppy and Nana Wilson. But the one with Jon and Adara dancing together is a tribute to Jon's ability to imitate his daughter. She's got his genes, mostly, anyway, so it's not surprising that he's able to do this. But it is impressive.

Moot. Folks. And Folkmoot

Two weeks ago I attended Y W camp. The YW president, Melissa, was pregnant and could not go to camp because she had been admitted to the hospital the day before camp started. She's been there for two weeks, but today we found out that the pregnancy was lost.

My world has been greatly effected by Melissa's hospitalization. As her counselor, I've been on the phone with her for several hours during the last two weeks. I've taken notes about what she has wanted to do, then been her hands in getting it done. I feel her loss, and as I watch my own daughter, I can hardly believe that I was not the one to lose an infant.

In conjunction with my YW duties, I have discovered, to my surprise, that I have been most Laman-and-Lemuel-ish in my behavior with my husband and my life in general. It is not as easy to stop complaining about everything as Sunday School teachers make it sound! But, thanks to the YW Personal Progress program, I am on my way to becoming a little Mary ray of sunshine, once again. (Adara was looking pretty sun-shine-y in this picture; sorry I haven't posted more pictures, but as usual, there are lots more pictures on my picasaweb page for those of you with desires for such. I usually upload pictures to picasaweb around the same time that I do my blogs, so that's the best time to look for new stuff.)

This resolution to be cheerful was put to the test when, on Saturday, Jon decided he wanted to finish all of the filming for our movie: Starfire Part II (that's the working title; stay tuned for more). We were literally working on the movie for 12 hours - from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m., which for us would be all right, maybe slightly stressful. But add a 14-month-old and the occasion approaches what one might call an ordeal.

I am pleased to report that the filming was finished with a minimum of grousing and almost no extended unpleasantness between the director, his star, and his assistant. We even successfully filmed a 60-second scene in a room in the Howard Johnson, thanks to Jon's ability to explain his vision and excitement to an open-minded and fun-loving hotel manager. (We had been denied rights to film at an uppity, to-remain-unnamed hotel nearby, and another hotel had no room for us :) -- so I was ready to throw in the towel. It was a great relief to me when Jon secured a victory with the final hotel we visited.)

Now for a picture break. But stay tuned, there's more blogging to be done after the pictures.

With these random pictures and the journaling above, you get a pretty accurate overview of what it has been like here for the last

two weeks. The coup de grace, well, actually there were two, but anyway, it was the international folk festival that Adara and I attended on Friday afternoon. We drove for 40 minutes to attend Folkmoot, which had one of the most entertaining and diverse array of performers that I have seen in awhile. Of course, I may just be starved for interesting activities that I can do with my daughter. But I don't think so. Here's why:

The French group came out in the traditional French mode, which, if you've seen very many French folk groups, you'll know that's a nice way of saying "boring". However, before long, the male dancers came on stage on stilts. Being 11 feet taller than your partner presents an interesting choreographic challenge, which the French avoided. They just had the men dance as a unit and the women dance as a unit, and the two were on the stage at the same time, but they didn't usually interact very much. However, the Frenchmen doing the polka on stilts, with a brief stint of weaving in and out of the women below, made it all worthwhile.


The young girls from Chinese Taipei presented what I thought was the epitome of dancing. Graceful, fun, employing multiple dance steps and formations, as well as Chinese lanterns and other props, the dances were never boring and never repetitive. The music, on the other hand . . . let's just say that, while the Chinese seem to have perfected the art of dance, they have perhaps gone into another dimension when it comes to music. To illustrate, the sound of one instrument made my little daughter start looking around for a dog. As I thought about it, I realized that it did sound like a little mechanical robot chihuahua trying to sing his short little barks.

Finally, if I have ever seen a Japanese drum performance before, the performance at Folkmoot proved that I never had really seen a Japanese drum performance. It was exquisite, if a bit loud. Like the Chinese performance, it was never boring. Unlike the Chinese performance, the music was musical - the flutes and conch shell were wonderful counterpoints to the different-toned drums, and the visual effect of the drumsticks (which we learned are called baci (read with Italian pronunciation) in Japanese) kept both me and my daughter captivated. Since Adara had only watched a maximum of two minutes of the other performances, I believe this made the Japanese performance the best of show.

That wraps it up for the dance portion of this blog. Again, I'm sorry there aren't more pictures this week. It would have been especially nice to have some pics of Folkmoot, but what with holding a toddler, the fact that my digital camera is rather cheap, and the dim light and fast-moving dancers, it probably wouldn't have been worth the bits and bytes and photosensory whatever.

But wait, there's still more to this blog! (I really should post more often.) The second coup de grace, as it were, was during intermission. Adara and I had gone out to the car for a snack and a man had come up to comment on our bumper sticker, "Mormons for Obama". To make a long story short, and an already long blog a little longer, we talked for probably 30 minutes about Utah, North Carolina, Mormons, etc., and he asked where our church was and whether it would be polite of him to drop by, should he wear a tie, and so forth. I thought he was being polite by asking about our church, so when he waved to me from the back pew in the chapel this morning, I was pleasantly surprised.

I guess the moral of the story is, it doesn't matter how you promote your religion, just as long as you do. I'm still shaking my head over that one. Political conversation aside, I wasn't so sure that it was a good idea to put that bumper sticker on the car, mostly because we were moving to "the South" and I wasn't sure how safe it would be to advertise that we are both Mormons and democrats. (Not to say that I am a democrat - I have no political affiliation, but I do drive the car with the bumper sticker, so I am guilty by association.) But my fears were completely unfounded - not only have we not been lynched or ostracized for either our religion or our political affiliation, we have instead been befriended because of both. Just "be yourself" I guess, and "seize the day" "e plurubus unum" and all that.

Ya'll come back now, y'hear?

Hamlet, a Baby, and Some Teens

Apparently, Adara is the star of this blog, as everyone keeps asking for more pictures. I'll post a few here for now, but the best way to see "more pictures of Adara" is at picasaweb. If you need the addy, drop me a line and I'll send it to you.
On the left, Adara is sporting her new favorite expression - shocked surprise. Above, she is taking care of her baby, which she asks for frequently, especially at mealtimes. I wonder why she associates caring for babies with food?

Finally, here is a picture of the playground - the best spot to satiate Adara's adventurous spirit - and a family photo which I thought turned out pretty well.


As for my life, well, that's a mixed bag. In the last few days I have attended the Young Women's camp, talked to the assistant editor of a local publishing company, and attended a production of "I Hate Hamlet" performed by the local community theater. A diverse array of activities, and therefore a satisfied soul at the end of a week.

The assistant editor at the publishing company graciously agreed to answer some of my questions about what his job is like. It was a victory for me, mainly because I have found lately that I dread talking to new people about pretty much anything -- especially if I have to put on the "I've got my life under control" face. I did manage to put that face on during the phone conversation -- even though the ast ed called me back right as I was recovering from Adara's excrementally smelly wardrobe malfunction. Somehow she didn't have a diaper on during most of the telephone conversation, and as I hung up the phone I had to clean the carpet again - although this time it was not as bad.

Another highlight from my recent activities involves a line from "I Hate Hamlet". The brief setup is that Andrew is going to play Hamlet. Deirdre, Andrew's girlfriend, has suggested that she would like to audition for the part of Ophelia.

D: Oh Andrew, could I audition? Would they let me?
A: I guess I could ask them.
D: Would you? And it wouldn't be sleazy, because I'm not sleeping with you! Isn't that perfect?
A: Deirdre, that's nuts. It's like . . . show business for Mormons.
D: It's going to be the best! Good night, sweet . . .
A: Don't say it! If I can't have sex, I don't know why I should play Hamlet.
D: Sweet prince! (exits)
A: What is this -- a test? No sex? Shakespeare? It's like high school!

I wonder if the author of this play knew about the plan of salvation . . . ?
Which leads us to the Young Women's camp. All I have to say about that is, the combined personality of the Young Women in my new ward is more than my entire graduating class at Westminster College. As Westminster prides itself on being the "only non-denominational private liberal arts school" in Utah, with ties to, but no official affiliation with the Presbyterian Church, you would think there would be a lot of interesting personalities. But these young women beat that, hands down. It's going to be an interesting year at church . . .

Digital Music

Just a brief photo sharing for you digital-age junkies.