An Aunt Megan Blanket for T Dawg

This is my nephew T Dawg.

Oh, and that's my sister.

My sister has four kids. I accidentally started the tradition of giving them all Aunt Megan blankets. I was practicing my double crochet and changing colors and I ended up with two blankets. I didn't want them so I sent them to G Man and Lady C. The small blankets were fondly referred to as Aunt Megan blankets. When Little Lady M showed up, I made her an Aunt Megan blanket. G Man, Lady C, and Lady M were all expecting that T Dawg would get an Aunt Megan blanket, too. How could I deny them?

This came together in three days. The worst part? Weaving in the ends. Note to self: change colors fewer times. I pilfered the yarn from Ma's overflowing storage containers. I think that might make the materials vintage.

Utah Shakespeare in the Park: A Midsummer Night's Dream

I made it! I went to see Utah Shakespeare in the Park perform A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was so much fun. I'm glad I made time for it.

Lindsay B., one of my brave companions from last time, came along. M.C. was going to come, but was too sick to make it. We did the only thing friends could do in the face of such tragedy. We carried on, but kept the memory of our dear friend close with a temporary, picnic blanket memorial. For those of you who don't know (which should be all of you since I made it up), a temporary, picnic blanket memorial is a memorial that is set up on a picnic blanket and is only temporary. I took a picture just for you.

Notice the picnic blanket. That's the picnic blanket I keep in the trunk of my car so I'm always ready for a picnic. Or something. The doughnut is the memorial to M.C. It was a little more temporary than I thought it would be. I had intended it to make it at least partway through the show with us. As if M.C. were there in spirit, watching alongside us. The show started late and doesn't it just look delicious? It didn't see even the veryest beginning of the show.

We sat in the front row. We didn't mean to. We just happened to be on time while everybody else was late. We set our blanket back from the stage a little ways; nobody sat in front of us. The performers moved the stage up (from the spot of grass further back to the spot of grass closer to us). We were front middle. The actors and actresses (mostly the actors) kept making eye contact with me because they were speaking earnestly to the audience but I was right there. I was touched no less than five times: my head, my face, my shoulder, my foot, my hand. I was made to fall in love with the man sitting on the blanket beside me (that's when my face got touched; you've just been made to fall in love! look at your lover boy, dang it!). An actress took advantage of the temporarily empty blanket beside me (Lindsay's husband had a very important question about a refrigerator, I understand), and snuggled up in my blanket to take a nap. Another actor took the opportunity to sit next to me a couple of different times during the show. I thought about sharing my gummy watermelons with him, but didn't want him to miss his lines cause he had stuff stuck in his teeth. I made the sacrifice, soldiered on, and ate my gummy watermelons myself.

This is your warning: if you sit in the front be prepared to be touched, spoken to, and snuggled with. It could happen to you.

The Donner Party in Trains

I've had the Donner Party on my mind as of late, after driving up to the pass and viewing the lake, seeing the memorial bridge. It's a tragic story.

However, remembering the Donner Party always makes me laugh a bit at myself. When I was a child I suffered from a humorous misunderstanding.

We learned about the Donner Party in elementary school, but nobody explained to me they were in wagons. I thought they were traveling by train. In my head I had visions of a glamorous dining carriage with chandeliers dancing in the sway of the train. The men were all in tuxedos and the women in beautiful evening gowns with jewels and lace and bustles in the back. I imagined the pass filled up with snow and the train slamming into the snow, the cars going every which way and the people in truly dire straits. I imagined the survivors struggling through the snow with no food or water, the women in their ridiculous, heeled shoes and the men in their tails, shivering their way over the mountain.


That is not how it happened. I don't know how long I operated under that understanding of the Donner Party, but it was for quite some years.

Let this be a lesson to you. Don't assume your children understand what you're talking about just because you understand. Explain, please.

My Best Cos

I recently went to visit my best cos, Steph, in California. It was a super quick trip. Ma and I rolled out of bed round about 3:30 am and were on the road by 4:15. That's my favorite way to do quick trips. You feel so super awesome when its finally 9:00 in the morning and you've already been driving five hours and you only have a few more to go. I'm telling you, it's the way to do long road trips.

Did I mention I'm a morning person and wake up before 6:00 am without the help of an alarm?

Mornings, love them.

The best part about leaving so early is that we were able to take our time. Ma and I stopped of in Truckee for a water refill and took the scenic roads from there. Very unbusy, windy, two-lane highways through piles of beautiful pine trees. We drove up to Donner's Pass and stopped to view the lake and read the available plaques about the Donner Party.

Donner Lake

Did I mention it was a perfect sort of day? The sun was shining, there was a small breeze blowing, and the sky was perfectly blue with lovely clouds piling on top of each other. Also, the rocks totally looked fake. Like Hollywood Styrofoam rocks. No offense to California mountains, but I'll keep my rugged Utah ones with rocks that look real.

We made it to our hotel in time to go spend some time just hanging with my cos and her adorable, baby girl. We hung out on the couch and talked and laughed and played. It's funny that Steph and I grew up to be such good friends. Best cos' we are. As children we couldn't spend a couple of hours together without bickering and determining that we kind of loathed the presence of the other and wished the other away. Really, that happened. Over and over and over again, as many times as she came to visit.

Friday I joined Steph for breakfast and we talked and laughed some more. We can talk about anything and everything for hours when we get together. Later, we did some shopping and ate lunch. More chatting and laughing and playing. We also were able to find baby Kate some sunglasses that will be perfect for her upcoming camping debut. Friday night, Steph and Kate were otherwise engaged so Ma and I had dinner with Aunt Nancy and cousin Michelle. It was fun and delicious and the perfect way to spend a few hours catching up. It's been years since I've seen either of them.

Saturday was the day of adventures. It started with a caramel making fiasco. The lesson to take from said event is to always use a candy thermometer when making caramel. The recipe they were using had an amount of time included, for those without a candy thermometer. The caramel cooked too long and was only good for sucking, not chewing. It probably would have chipped a tooth or two had you bitten into it unexpectedly. The event is documented here by Steph's husband Jon. I wish them the best of luck in their next attempt. May the candy thermometer be with them.

Steph lives about a half hour drive from Sacramento. After we smashed up the caramel into pieces we could suck on, we hit the road. I've never been to Old Sac. It was very touristy but super fun. There's so much history there. I especially loved seeing the old street level and the sloping alleys and the lovely, old-time buildings.

I met a friendly Indian outside an antique shop. Don't be intimidated by the stern expression; he's really very nice. We chatted about settlement life and have decided we're the best of friends.

We stopped by a friendly street artist. We apparently won face of the year so we had to get our pictures drawn, of course. A tourist couple passing by stopped to watch the artist draw. Ma asked the couple if it looked like us. They said that it did, that the street artist had even put in my mole! See it? Funny that they thought that was evidence of it looking like me.

By the way, I don't know why people have always warned me away from street artists. It's inexpensive, a better souvenir than the cheap trinkets you can find in every tourist location, and a fun way to document your trip together. Also, I love seeing the different styles the street artists use. My sister and I were nearly accosted by a street artist in Strausbourg when we were there together. He went all the way down to two euros. For two euros he would have sketched our faces. I would love to have a sketch that barely looked like my sister and I from Strausbourg. Next time someone wants to draw your face for two euros, let them!

After Old Sac we headed into downtown Sacramento. It was the second Saturday of the month. Participating art galleries were open to the public for free. We stopped by three of them, but only one was open. It was a photography gallery and was featuring the Night Sky collection by Jennifer Wu. It was gorgeous. There was one shot of the stars (I don't see it in the collection on her web page) that I particularly loved and might have bought for myself if it wasn't a year of no spending.

After strolling the streets looking for galleries to visit, we stopped in at Rick's Dessert Diner. I was going to get just the Best Yellow Cake, but couldn't help getting a piece of the Lemon Cake, too. Good thing I did because the yellow cake was a bust. It was dry and the crumb was overly course and the chocolate frosting didn't have anything to say for itself. The lemon cake was so super delicious and I would be happy to eat a piece of it every time I went to Sacramento.

Did I mention Rick's was very pink, inside and out?

We ended the night by eating at Loomis Chinese (which was surprisingly delicious) and playing games. Sunday we left in the good, early morning and headed back home. It was the perfect sort of trip and I'm so glad we made time to go. My best cos told me that in the fall at Apple Hill there are all sorts of appley things to do. If there's any chance of making it, I am definitely going. Apples! Oodles and oodles of apples.

For those who were wondering, during the trip I managed to read my way through Feed and halfway through Let the Great World Spin; more reading than I reading than I thought I would get in. Also, I took enough running clothes so I could hit the treadmill Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I didn't run once. Good thing because my feet were aching in that tourist kind of way by the end of Saturday.

Ma's Bloopers

A Book Lady

The other day I went to Barnes and Noble. I haven't set foot in a bookstore in I don't know how long. Part of trying to be fiscally responsible. Books are definitely wants, not needs, and fall under extraneous purchasing. Particularly since I have an awesome library within biking distance. I was given an amex gift card and while I should have spent it on something nonextraneous, I went to the bookstore instead.

As I stood in line, I listened to the checkout lady ask if the patron she was helping had a B&N membership. She then explained the perks of the membership and asked if the patron would like to join. The same event occurred when the couple in line behind me stepped up to the counter. I heard it as I walked away. Neither wanted to join.

The checkout lady did not ask me if I was a member. "Do you have your membership card with you, or should we look you up?"

That is exactly how she greeted me. I played it cool, though I was kind of freaking out. "I'm not sure if I have my card on me so let's look it up."

My mind was going crazy. How did she know? I did a quick wardrobe check. Blue and white striped tee, jeans cut-off at the knee, purple toms, tan cardigan. Is this the wardrobe of a B&N member? Maybe it was the small, silver hoops in my ears? Did she see my princess key ring hanging out of my pocket that I used as a teenager but recently rediscovered and began using again? Was it that I wasn't wearing makeup? The neat ponytail that was neither high nor low that left my hair, long and straight, hanging down my back? Does she have x-ray vision powerful enough to know that I had two library books tucked into the dark blue satchel slung across my body.

HOW DID SHE KNOW!?

I apparently look like somebody that spends too much money on books. It's like when you see a stranger and know right away that she's a cat lady. Except, I'm a book lady. Not even a five-month fast from book buying can shake it.

Don't get too close! Some of my stray books might rub off on you.

Christmas in May

I placed my first online order for fabric. I was very, very nervous. I wanted to see my fabric, feel it, look at the colors all lined up. Physical stores didn't have the fabric I was looking for. Really, I had no other choice. The online fabric store has a 30-day return policy, and will pay return shipping. If my fabric was awful, I could send it back and they would pay for it.

My fabric came in a very dirty package. I was so excited to open it up. It was like Christmas. I knew what was inside, but I hadn't seen it or handled it and I didn't know if it was really going to work. I checked each cut carefully for blemishes so it could be returned if needed. The fabric was in perfect condition (despite the sad state of its packaging) and I was pleased with how the colors coordinated.

They did send me the wrong fabric for one of my cuts. One of the problems with ordering online, I suppose. You can't actually see the fabric they decide to cut for you. I contacted them that same day and they are sending me a new cut of the correct fabric (fingers crossed) and told me to keep the fabric they had sent me accidentally.

I'm happy enough with my purchase that I might try ordering from Fabric.com again, even when I'm not looking for piles of Christmas fabric in May.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

This is happening.
I've been looking forward to Shakespeare in the Park for nearly a year and it's finally here! Remember when I went to Othello last year? It was awesome. They do a fantastic job and the plays are accessible to anyone.

I did a lengthy group report on A Midsummer Night's Dream in college and also taught an hour and a half class period on its themes, characters, etc. In true Shakespeare comedy, there's mix-ups and mayhem in the middle followed by a satisfactory ending where all the right lovers love each other and everybody is happy. It's a perfect play for those who may not associate the words Shakespeare and fun times.

I highly recommend that you to go. It's free, eating is encouraged, and it makes you feel smart to say you watch Shakespeare in your free time. If you do happen to find yourself heading to the Orem City Center Park round about 7:00 pm for a fabulous show, please consider donating. It's worth it, I promise.

*grumble, grumble* "That doesn't make it free!" *grumble, grumble*

You're right. It will cost you a little to donate. But you can go for free and then feel good about supporting this awesome organization. Or you can just go and not donate. No judgement.

If you feel like you would enjoy the show more if you brushed up on your Shakespeare, consider reading this plot overview from SparksNotes or watch this short video summary, also from SparkNotes.

Grab your picnic blanket, your best bud, and some snacks. Like I said, this is happening.

image via

This Time Tomorrow

I thought I burned out the treadmill last night. It sort of flickered like the last dying breath of machinery and then died. The belt slowed to a stop and I panicked. Ah! I killed the treadmill!

Somehow, the small thunderstorm that gave a friendly rumble now and then was powerful enough somewhere else to cause my power to go out. Luckily for me, the master bath has a bank of windows with gauzy blinds. When I was nearly through with my shower the power came back on. Perhaps I hit the switch without thinking when I walked into the bathroom. The fan started whirring overhead and the light was glaring. It felt intrusive. I missed the gentle light from outside and the sounds of the rain.

There's so much I love about our modern technological world, but sometimes it's nice to take a step back and power down.

I'm leaving for California in the morning. The only piece of technology I'm taking with me is my phone, and I'd leave that behind if it weren't irresponsible.

These are the books I'm taking with me:

More books than days I'll be gone. The last time I was sensible about the number of books I took on vacation, I ran out with a week left. I had to borrow my uncle's Costco card and use vacation funds to buy myself a shiny, new stack of books to finish out the rest of my trip. I made a vow to my inner, avid reader that such a travesty would never occur again.

A Different Place

I received a job offer Friday morning. It was a temporary, part-time job that didn't pay very well, but it came with a studio apartment in a suburb of Paris, a fifteen minute train ride from the heart of the city. My time would have been split between working and taking French classes in the city. I would have had my evenings and weekends to myself. Can you see me, strolling along the Seine on a Saturday morning, stopping at a street cafe for un chocolat chaud et une tartine?

I've been anxious and stressed and distracted all weekend. This morning, I turned the job offer down. My heart is breaking a little. Ten months in Paris and I decided not to go? I can't decide if I was more crazy for deciding not to go or for considering it in the first place.

France would have been a distraction. A distraction filled with delicious pastries and visits to the Musee d'Orsay and finally being fluent in French, but still a distraction. I've been seeking desperately for a way out of my stagnated life. I'm hankering after change, something different. I was sure something different that happened to come with the magic of Paris would have been the perfect thing. It's not. An external change is not the sort of change I need. A different place, a different job, and different people wouldn't have given me the change I need. That change is an internal one.

This next year is going to be different. Not because I'm in a different place, but because I'm going to be different. Likely, nobody will notice the changes; they are small and internal. I will notice and that will make all the difference.