The solution to my protein/calcium problem

cheese and yogurt.



And i'm not sure why this Yoplait is scooping money out of itself unless it's decided that it's a philanthropist.

souvenirs

today, I got an email from a ward member in Santos and it was like getting a letter from across time. I can't imagine myself in a more different place than Brazil than where I am right now. (Well, okay. It's not that different.) But anyway, I was doing very different things than what i'm doing now. it's amazing--mind-boggling, actually--to think that I belong to two such different sets of people. And I realized something else after having received that short little email: we never totally lose things like places or people. We leave them, or they leave us, but we always take something of them with us, like a souvenir. I used to get so freaked out over loss. But I think--I just think--I may be mastering the art of losing. As Elizabeth Bishop says:

The art of losing isn't hard to master
though it may look like (write it!) like disaster

poor hands

One would think that after all I've been through to finally be able to just ride my little scooter to BYU that the saga would be over. But no. After the tune-up, inspection, registration, written exam, and the normal growing pains of learning to drive a new kind of vehicle, i'm getting some lovely little blisters on my hands (callouses maybe? hopefully?) from constant gear-shifting and general rattling of the bike. It may have something to do with the fact that every time i want to brake or put on my signal, or change gears, I have to stretch my fingers to the max just to be able to pull off these oh-so-important maneuvers. And, I find today that my wrists are shaking (not while i'm driving.) today, at work while I contemplated this disturbing development, I wondered if I was showing signs of Parkinson's or if the muscles in my forearms were just overtaxed by both a) scooter driving and b) "Badmimbledon": Christina's and my weeklong badminton tournament. sigh Next, they will tell me I already have osteoporosis.

Let Freedom Ring!

.

"Wait! No. We must ignite them one at a time!"


"That's more like it. Now, we musn't light our father on fire."


"Careful--"


"Great. They've gone and blown themselves up again."



Fireworks are a little expensive this year, so we tried to maximize the experience by not only igniting the fireworks themselves, but their packaging as well.



Oddly reminiscent of Depression-era fireworks (i.e. box burning)

midnight watch

A few nights ago, around one o' clock, I wandered out into the backyard in my pink, fluffy bathrobe. All was dark and soft. The weather was restless. I was barefoot. I walked out to the middle of the lawn and sunk down into the grass. It was a little damp, but I didn't mind. I directed my thoughts to God. i told Him that I missed the past and was confused by the present. I looked up, and through breaks in the clouds I could see stars--Cygnus fixed in space in its giant cross formation. Then I had a good cry, and was glad that nobody could see me.

cute loaf

I just found this picture of me and the loaf and i think it's too cute.

Riding Hobbes

Today, i went for a ride on Hobbes. It was just one more illegal jaunt on my scooter, i guess. But I felt justified because I only went down 2000 S., down the winding part, and back up our street again. i need to practice anyway if he is to be my main mode of transportation for the next two or three months. Before it gets cold, anyhow. It's hard to describe how fun it is to drive. It is one thing to ride as a passenger, to feel the security of someone else in control, the luxury of looking at the scenery, the careless abandon of turns. But it is an entirely different matter to actually drive. To feel the full force of the wind in your own face, to have absolute control--and responsibility. To feel completely secure on your own merit. Yes, Hobbes and I have bonded. I need him because I have no one else, and he needs me because the last time people stopped riding him, his battery died and his scrapes rusted over again. Look how sad this is: it is nearly one in the morning and I am anthropomorphizing a small, orange vehicle. But I just smiled and thought, "Why not?"