Here we go again...

As we stood on Shulamith's porch yesterday morning taking back-to-school pics, it seriously felt like we had just done it. Has it really been an entire year? How's that possible?

This year only five of us returned to school. Seth graduated in May from UVU and is working as a legal assistant as he studies for the LSAT. It's entirely possible that next fall he'll be headed to law school. Eli escaped the chaos of public education and works for the LDS Church as an Operations Supervisor and Job Coach at the Murray Deseret Industries.

Yesterday, five of us packed up our backpacks, donned our first-day-of-school outfits, and headed back to the grind. It was a very long day. When Shulamith texted me at 8:00 p.m. asking if I survived my two early-evening classes, I replied, "Barely." When she texted again at 9:04 to tell me I forgot to stop by and grab some sourdough to eat with my dinner, I was fighting sleep, wanting so badly to stay awake to hear Tim Walz address the Democratic Convention. I lost that battle. But this morning, once I finish this post, I'll return to my zero gravity bed and watch that speech, along with a couple others I've missed during the week. 

So here we go with the famous yearly school photos:

Theodore - 2nd grade (DLI Spanish)

Kennedy - 5th grade

Swen - 7th grade

(Swen escaped the front porch picture taking, because he was already off to middle school before the rest of us were even dressed!)

Shulamith - kindergarten

Me: University of Utah and Salt Lake Community College

I had to drop UVU from my teaching schedule, because I accepted a one-year, non-tenure track, full-time position at SLCC, and I'd rather not die. I already miss UVU; it is my favorite place to teach; however, after just one day, I can already feel the relief from not dealing with three separate institutions. I mean I still woke up at 2:00 a.m. worrying about how to get everything done. When I was still awake at 4:00, I decided to get up and do the stuff, so I could stop worrying. Now at nearly 8:00, I'm feeling slightly less anxious, but my eyes are tired. 

Gonna go watch a speech by the next Vice President of the United States. Our family text thread was raging wild last night as it was happening, but I was drifting in and out of consciousness. Can't wait to hear it! And lie in zero gravity.

And hopefully take a nap.

Energized and hopeful, not exactly a beach person, and is that a "real" McDonald's?

Is all that too much to cover in a single blog post? Yes.

Am I gonna do it anyway. Yes.

Energized and hopeful. The English language has more words to say the exact same thing than any other language I know of. And yet, today I struggle for the words to express my excitement about the recent events within the Democratic Party. I'll settle for the two above. For real, I haven't felt this much energy and hope for our country since 2008, when we campaigned for then-Senator Barak Obama. Luke was home from his mission only two weeks, when the two of us went out canvassing our neighborhood in Billings, Montana. It's a memory I treasure. And while Senator Obama did not win the state of Montana (shocking!), I was grateful for the opportunity for Luke and me to do our part, however small, to elect a new President, one who energized us and gave hope to so many across the nation. 

I've felt that same vibe these past two weeks, as Vice President Kamala Harris became the presumptive nominee on the Democratic ticket, and again just a few days ago when she announced Governor Tim Walz as her running mate. Oh my goodness, these two! I couldn't be any more impressed. They offer consistent, kind, responsible leadership. Their dedication to basic human rights like food, housing, education, and healthcare is unparalleled, and both have track records fighting for these rights--for everyone--not just the wealthiest. No, they are not perfect people or perfect candidates. But they are also not INSANE! Like the two on the other side. (No offense intended to my many conservative friends. But it's my blog, so....)

Kamala Harris and Tim Walz will not win the state of Utah. It seems my destiny to find myself forever "livin' blue in a red state." But I will still do whatever I can. I will donate my time, effort, and limited financial resources to mobilize citizens and get out the vote for Harris/Walz in November, especially in the battleground states. Because the alternative is positively unacceptable.

Not exactly a beach person. So the beach presents a bit of a paradox for me. I grew up in Western Oregon, where I could drive less than an hour and be at the ocean. And I did. Well, I didn't actually drive there; I rode in my parents' car, but yes, as a family, we spent considerable time on the Oregon coast. And I learned at a young age that I'm not exactly a beach person. I love the cool breezes and ocean views. I LOVE to eat fresh seafood. I'm an excellent swimmer, and I love to be in water! 

But juxtapositioned right alongside all that is my intense dislike for sand. Anywhere on my body. Particularly on my feet and toes. As Seth would say, it's super cringe. So whenever a beach-type situation arises, there's always the internal struggle between water fun on the one hand, and gross sand stuck between my toes on the other. It's a hard call. This past week, we went to Bear Lake for a final goodbye to summer before Shulamith, her kids, and I all return to school. We rented a lovely Airbnb with a beautiful view of the lake (pictured above). We made good food, sat in the hot tub, played Charades and Ransom Notes, and drank delicious fresh raspberry shakes.

We also went to the lake. Twice. 

The first day, I wore shoes and socks, and not one pebble of sand got into my toes. Success! The second day we rented paddle boards, so of course I had to try riding one of those, which meant I had to take off my shoes and socks and walk down to the water. Worse, I had to walk out of the water with wet feet back to our shade canopy. Ewwww, so much sand! Amanda to the rescue! She researched the best way to overcome this problem and brought corn starch. Turns out if you rub corn starch all over your sandy feet, all the sand comes off. It's absolutely true! Within just a couple minutes, all the sand was gone, and I had my socks and shoes back on. 

Is that a "real" McDonald's???

As we drove home Friday morning, we decided to stop for breakfast in Logan. Shulamith's kids all like McDonald's breakfast, so I put "McDonald's near me" in my phone, and we headed that way. As we pulled into the parking lot, joy overcame me. "Is that a 'real' McDonald's?" I exclaimed. In case you didn't know, the vast majority of McDonald's restaurants aren't real. The only "real" McDonald's restaurants have giant golden arches that literally go through the building on each side. Like this....

I was so surprised and excited, I jumped right out to take a picture before running inside. The only "real" McDonald's we have anywhere near us is the one on State Street and 5800 South in Murray, and I definitely go there whenever I can.  Other McDonald's restaurants fake it fairly well. They serve the same food. They have pictures of Ronald McDonald on their walls. But trust me; they are only posers. 

Farewell, summer!

The official last day of summer in the U.S. isn't until September 22nd, but for those of us who are teachers or students, it ends the second we set foot back in school. There isn't much time left! If you're trying to squeeze in all the best things before it's over, I suggest starting with the following: (1) join the celebratory spirit rising in America by demonstrating your support for Harris/Walz, (2) spend a few days at Bear Lake, but pack lots of corn starch, and (3) find yourself a "real" McDonald's.

Grace remains, even in the messiness!

Sometimes you just need to lean into the grace.

Not only the grace of God, but also God's grace reflected in people. 

Good people. 

Kind people. 

They are everywhere. 

You just have to look!

These past couple weeks, it's been easier for me and my family to look at the messiness. A couple of incidents, including a very personal attack on my character, have made it challenging for us to view others as the beloved children of Heavenly Parents that they are, to focus on their divine heritage.

But we have to do exactly that. 

We absolutely have to. 

So today I'd like to spotlight a few specific examples of those who extend grace. First, an employee at the new 7-11 by our house. Everyone there is friendly; they welcome customers verbally as they enter. But this girl is especially nice, so nice that oftentimes when I go up to pay for my Diet Coke refill, she says, "You're good. I got you," motioning me out the door. And it's not so much the free Diet Coke that makes the difference (though that's super nice); it's more the way she says it and how she looks at me. I don't know this woman at all. We aren't friends. I don't even know her name. But in that moment when she says "You're good. I got you," I feel like she really does. It's a quiet kindness that she radiates outward. Grace.

Second, my strength training guru, Courtney. This summer, I've had the opportunity to attend her weekly strength circuit class. She is a skilled trainer and teacher, and I've clearly upped my fitness game since working with her. Now, when I'm lifting at home, I hear her voice in my head, "shoulders back," "abs tight," "wrists straight," "good self correction." But that is not why I mention her in this post. More important than those things, Courtney is kind. She is gentle and not judgmental. I am not physically strong; I'm probably the weakest person she's ever worked with. And yet, I never feel that way in her class. Her encouragement pushes me to try harder, to not give up, and to be proud of the smallest victories. Grace.

Third, the staff at Bluffdale Dental. Like many people, I don't enjoy going to the dentist. I have childhood trauma of sitting for what seemed like hours, my jaw open far too wide, cotton stuffed into my gums, and the crunching and grinding as they extracted four of my permanent teeth in preparation for braces. This, followed by the pain, oh so much pain, once the Novocain wore off. Dentistry has improved markedly since the 70s, but I'm still anxious. However, at Bluffdale Dental, from the front office staff to the assistants, the hygienists, and dentists, they treat the whole person, not just their teeth. They make certain patients are comfortable throughout treatment. The atmosphere is calm and friendly; you never feel like they're in a hurry. And they must take notes, because they somehow remember details from my life after a full six months! Grace.

Fourth, the women in my Bunco group. We are a diverse bunch in many ways, but all of these ladies have become my friends, regardless of any differences. We laugh much, talk continuously, eat way too much food, and eventually, even squeeze in some Bunco. It's such a low-key group. I think the leader, Whitney, does much to create and preserve that vibe. People feel welcome, the 12 regulars as well as any subs. It's a good place to hang out and much cheaper than therapy. Grace.

These are just a few examples of kind folks who extended grace to me, in a week that seemed woefully lacking. They reminded me that good people are everywhere and that....

....grace remains, even in the messiness!

A Quiet Place

Thursday morning July 4th, Eli, Shulamith, Swen, and I stopped by Holiday to fill our Stanleys with Diet Coke, then headed to Riverton Cinemark to watch "A Quiet Place: Day One," the prequel to the franchise, whose plot centers on an alien attack on earth by hundreds of giant, hairy, humanoid monsters, who respond only to sound and are apparently blind and unable to swim. In order to avoid being attacked and eaten, everyone must be completely silent.

This makes for a very quiet movie.

Ironically, that same day, my own home returned to its typical "quiet place."

Lemme just tell you that I make a terrible empty nester. I seriously suck at it. Because our children are spread out by 15 years oldest to youngest, I had some combination of children, teens, and young adults living in my home for well over three decades. It was pure delight! When Seth left on his mission in 2018, Isaiah was back with us, after graduating from college and dealing with several crazy, awful roommates, so even with Seth gone to Paraguay for two years, I still had Isaiah! When COVID shut down the world, and Seth returned four months early with all the other North American missionaries, I had both my cute boys home with me through the pandemic. 

In the fall of 2022, Seth moved to Orem to finish his degree at UVU, and Isaiah found a studio apartment in downtown Salt Lake. They did this all in the same month (rude!), and suddenly, for the very first time, I was an empty nester. 

I didn't like it. 

I still don't. 

We're told to deal with life's changes by looking for the good in the new situation wherever we can find it. The one and only good thing about having my five kids out of the house is the two additional closets available. I can now rotate my wardrobe through the seasons, rather than storing off-season clothes in plastic tubs under the bed. Hooray! 

This in no way compensates for how much I miss my favorite people on earth. Not even close.

Fast forward to May 2024. Gerald and I went to the Pacific Northwest to visit our families. Our first night there at nearly 11 p.m., I received this text from Amanda: "Everyone is okay. Can I call?" My family and close friends understand my anxiety and know never to just call me without any warning. Most of them are pretty good at doing what Amanda just did, assuring me that all is well before moving to the reason for the text. 

"Yes!" I replied. "Call me!"

My phone alerted me to her call, and she explained that their house sprung a leak from the second-floor bathroom, and water was pouring down into the garage. Eeeeek! She had shut off the water, leaving no way to bathe or cook or whatever, so she asked if they could go stay at my house. Of course! Late that night, the three of them drove over to our house and moved in. 

That was two months ago. Their situation was frighteningly uncertain at the start, when an over-zealous insurance agent claimed emphatically that the damages would not be covered: "We never cover mold, never," she maintained. But a couple days later, she called back (less zealous) to report that while she'd never seen it happen in all her time working there, Eli and Amanda's agent had, indeed, adjusted their policy to cover mold. (Note to self: Make sure your homeowner's policy is thorough.)

Everything would be covered, minus the $1,000 deductible. Oh the joy and relief! They would also be reimbursed for housing, since their home was deemed "unlivable"; thankfully, this reimbursement would more than cover the deductible, far more. A sad and scary incident turned into a blessing. They would get a brand new bathroom and some unexpected cash. And I had my Eli and his family here with me. I was not an empty nester at all.

Our two months together were not without excitement. One day, their 2.5-year-old daughter, Jane, found herself a red Sharpie and decided to try out her artistic talents on my white fabric couch. Amanda jumped into action, researching how to get Sharpie out of light fabric, and then spent countless, tiring hours, for several days treating the stain until it was completely gone. 

I also have a white throw pillow with the names Terrianne, Gerald, Luke, Shulamith, Isaiah, Eli, and Seth on the front. I prefer this pillow to be on my couch. Jane prefers it to be on the floor. She and I played this game nearly every day for the full two months, and I can report with only the slightest humiliation that Jane won every last time.

But the joy far outweighed any inconvenience. I've always felt that multigenerational living has huge advantages over isolated, single-family residences. Historically, it was the norm in the U.S., until the post-war industrial boom of the 50s pushed people to believe the "American Dream" included a home for every couple, separate from their parents. That said, the trend toward multigenerational living has made a fairly strong comeback in recent decades, partly the result of a struggling economy, but possibly for other reasons too.

Our home in Sandy was designed for multiple families with its daylight basement apartment with separate entrance and kitchen; alas, this house is not. Still, we had such a fun two months together, and although we are all grateful that Eli and Amanda's house is now fully repaired, I think we all felt a bittersweet melancholy when they moved back home Thursday. I think we're still feeling it two days later.

Today, after a lovely, 5-mile walk in the cool morning, I cleaned my four bathrooms and started laundry. Then I lay in my zero gravity bed and watched a movie. It was relaxing, yes. 

But I miss them. Really, I do. I was never cut out to be an empty nester. And my home was never cut out to be.....

......a quiet place.

We're halfway to Christmas. Celebrate hard!

Sunday afternoon, I drove home from church and began to prep food for dinner. It was quiet in my house...and peaceful. As I husked corn and speared potatoes, I was suddenly pulled from the calm, thrilled to hear the familiar Christmas song "There's No Place like Home for the Holidays" play on my Alexa. I stopped immediately, and waited anxiously for the phrase, "...Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie" so I could shout "He Wanted Pie!" 

I was so happy! On our Frame TV was a picture of a present, beautifully wrapped for Christmas, and on our dining table, my Charlie Brown tree surrounded by presents:

In our family, June brings a delightful (albeit fake) holiday called Halfway Christmas. We select a day close to June 25th to celebrate the fact that we are halfway to our favorite holiday of the year! This was our eighth year of this marvelous tradition. If you want to know more, the above link tells the story of 2017, and how the first Halfway Christmas came to be, and here are links to our subsequent celebrations: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023. 

As always, it was joyous from start to finish. Amanda made yummy cinnamon rolls, and we all ate them, some of us before church, some after, some both (I may or may not be in that last group.) Later, Shulamith smoked ribs and made a pasta salad. I did the easier stuff: corn on the cob, baked potatoes, and strawberry shortcake. 

After dinner, we opened gifts, one each, one at a time. Everyone seemed happy and grateful, but I think Seth and I tied for the "most excited" prize. I had Seth's name and gave him a new disc for disc golfing, his favorite hobby. Mathew, who doesn't even like the "real" Christmas so definitely doesn't participate in "Halfway," kindly chose a disc for Seth, because I had no idea which ones are good. I added in two black, beaded bracelets, and Seth was delighted with everything.

When it was my turn, my gift was carefully wrapped, yes WRAPPED, not in a bag! I've been wanting a felt letter board to write messages, but I wasn't expecting to get one for Halfway; I didn't think it was possible to find a good one within our $20 price limit. Gerald had my name and, evidently, asked Shulamith for gift suggestions (always a good idea!). Then he found me the perfect letter board (picture top of page). 

Other cool gifts included soft pajama pants for Shulamith, an Amazon gift card for Gerald, a Target gift card for Eli (so he can buy more video games, even though he has several that aren't even opened yet), stuffed Dino Nuggets for Swen and Kennedy, a rock collection for Theodore, and a bouncing ball with handles for Jane. Amanda's gift is still a mystery, but Seth says it's due to arrive at our house today!

After presents, we played a few rounds of "Hot Seat," which brought much laughter but also TERROR, as I learned that Shulamith once provided a ride home to two complete strangers (dudes!), late at night after her serving shift at Macaroni Grill. Seriously???

We're halfway to our favorite holiday, and THAT warrants a celebration! We celebrated hard, and here are more pics to prove it:

Zero Gravity, Birthday Bashes, A Baby Shower, and Halfway Christmas still to come!

"It's great, once you get over feeling like you're in the hospital." - Tom Webster

The second week in May, Gerald and I traveled to the Pacific Northwest, where I embarked on a glorious week of human connections: joyous renewal of relationships, time with extended family and forever friends. My brother Tom kindly welcomed me to stay at his house, and while I was there, he told me about the new bed he recently purchased, a Sleep Number with an adjustable base. I was already thinking about replacing our mattress in the next few months, though I hadn't considered a Sleep Number. 

As he told me about its many features, I grew intrigued. Of course the "sleep number" means you get to choose your perfect level of firmness from 100 (most firm) to 1 (softest). Then the base allows you to raise your head and/or your feet as high as you like. (Yes, Tom, it's kinda like being in the hospital, but not really, cuz the mattress itself is way more comfortable.) The under-bed lighting provides a lighted path if you need to get out of bed when it's dark, and an app on your phone tracks your heart rate and respiration through the night and gives you a sleep score each morning, based on how close you came to meeting your sleep goals. (Awesome, yet another anxiety trigger!)

"Well, I certainly don't need all that," I thought. Until I went into the Sleep Number store here in Utah and found out that the tracking app and the under-bed lighting come standard with all their beds, so I guess I do need those? The base is separate, so I told the sales guy I wanted one that raises only my head. "I don't need my feet raised up too," I explained. 

But then. Then..... he proceeded to put me into Zero Gravity. 

Oh my goodness! 

"I lied." I told the sales guy. "I actually do need my feet to raise up, because Zero Gravity for the Win!

A couple weeks later, my new Sleep Number bed was delivered, and I love it. So much. I kinda wanna live in my bed. But really. 

Along with my new addiction to Zero Gravity set to Sleep Number 70, June brought two birthday celebrations, which wound up on the same day! Shulamith threw her daughter Kennedy's 10th birthday party three weeks early, so Kennedy could hand out invitations the last week of school. Summer birthdays are challenging, and this made it easier. Kennedy had a pool party with all her friends from school, dance, church, and the neighborhood. She was definitely the queen of the day and had so much fun. 

That same evening, our family met at a Thai restaurant in Lehi to celebrate Seth's 24th birthday. My baby is 24! Eeeek, that makes no sense. He was recently promoted from his receptionist/front office position at a law firm to a legal assistant. He's taking everything in and learning so much, as he prepares to take the LSAT this fall.

Right on the heels of all the birthday bashes, I had the honor to host a baby shower for my friend Jacquelyn. We gathered and ate way too much dessert, talked all things "baby," and celebrated Jacquelyn and her new baby boy, due make his earth debut July 23rd. I didn't get a picture cuz I'm lame like that, but I do have a chart with everyone's predictions (date and time of birth, weight, length) for Jacquelyn's sweet little boy. I'm excited to deliver the prize to the person whose guesses were closest!

Still to come in June is our family's pretend holiday: Halfway Christmas! We are celebrating this coming Sunday, June 30th, so stay tuned for all the details...

...also, it's not too late. Your family could celebrate Halfway Christmas too. It's the best. You won't regret it. 

It wasn't Israel

Over a year ago, I scheduled a trip for Gerald and me to the Holy Land. The break between spring and summer semesters is the only time I can travel for the length of time needed for such a trip, so we booked our tour reservations for mid-May, 2024. 

Then, the horror of war. 

For months, we watched the situation escalate. My heart hurts for everyone involved in this awful mess, and it feels selfish to be concerned for my own vacation plans. Ultimately, we canceled and rescheduled our Israel/Jordan trip for May, 2025.

"So what do we do this May?" We decided to fly over to the Pacific Northwest, our "home," and visit Gerald's family (Everett, Washington) and mine (Portland, Oregon), along with a couple stops in between for me to visit friends. I promised myself I'd get pictures of everyone I saw along the way, but I only kept that promise 50% of the time. It wasn't for lack of dedication; it's just that I was so invested in the moment, visiting all these beloved friends and family members, that preserving it in a picture too often escaped my mind. Sorry.

We flew to Sea-Tac, rented a Turo, and drove up I-5 to Everett. Gerald's mom is currently in rehab, mending a broken hip, post surgery. She's doing great, and it was good to see her making excellent progress for someone who is 93! Keep walking, Vi! The second day in Everett, we had the pleasure of lunch with Gerald's brother Glenn and his wife Monica. Glenn always brings us the best Thai food, and the whole afternoon was a delight. And yes, this was one of the times I forgot to take a picture. 

Both mornings in Everett I took long, lovely walks. The first day was sunny, but the second day was perfection: my favorite overcast skies with just the slightest drizzle of rain. Every time I walk in Pacific Northwest rain, I tell myself I'm staying forever. (Every time, I ultimately miss my kids too much and return to Utah.) 

The following day, Gerald stayed in Everett with his family, and I drove south. I stopped at SouthCenter Mall near the airport to meet up with my cousin, Diana. We've kept in touch through socials, but hadn't seen each other in person since her wedding in 1993!! I was there with my four little kids, Eli only eight months old, to witness Diana marry her sweetheart Jeff. Diana and I had the best, best visit as we looped the mall together; I had over 12,000 steps before I got back in my car to continue on to Portland. (Note: It will not be 30 years before this reunion happens again!)

South I went, just in time to encounter rush hour traffic on I-5 coming into the Portland area. Eeeeek! We like to complain about traffic here in the Salt Lake Valley, but we don't even have a clue. Finally, I made it to my mom's/brother's house in Happy Valley! I hate driving generally, and especially in craziness traffic, so I was grateful to get into my mom's car and let Tom drive us to a food truck corral for dinner, where I had super yummy Indian food. The next morning, my mom and I met my niece Carley for breakfast. I hadn't seen her since her wedding either (Is this a pattern?), though hers was just this past November. And this was another time I forgot to get a picture (sigh). 

Saturday, Tom and my mom and I had breakfast together, and look! I got a picture!

Then Tom went home, and my mom and I became mall rats. I basically grew up in malls, shopping with my mom and grandma, whose words still echo in my mind: "Tannie, if we get separated, meet under the clock at Meier & Frank." Malls will always be a happy place for me, though I fully own up to my role in their demise, whenever I go to my front porch and retrieve my latest Amazon order. That said, Clackamas Town Center was surprisingly busy. We wandered through stores, I tried on lots of clothes (!), and we finished with decadent Cinnabons. 

That evening, my niece Leslie came for dinner with her two kids. Tom's friend Yvonne make incredible Mexican food, and we all laughed and visited and had so much fun. And, you guessed it: no picture. 

The next morning, I climbed into my Turo, waved goodbye to my family, and began the trek home to Utah, which meant driving back up to Sea-Tac to return the car, meet up with Gerald, and fly home. Here we are on FrontRunner.

Driving north that day, I stopped for three hours in Vancouver, Washington to hang out with my best friend, Lorelei. I use the word "best" with a bit of elasticity, so just go with me on that. Of course my immediately family are my best friends, but I also have a small handful of other besties, who are not related to me by blood or marriage. Only one lives near me up in Sandy. The others are scattered here and there, in places like St. George, Rexburg, Billings, and Vancouver. Of these dear souls, Lorrie is the one I've known longest. We met when I was 13 in Rainbow Girls and became instant homies. We were honor attendants in each other's weddings, corresponded through email for decades, and most importantly, we've prayed for each other with constancy through the many highs and lows of mortality. 

It reminds me of one of my favorite relationships in scripture, between Jonathan and David. In 1 Samuel 18:1, we read, "...the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." This, to me, is the definition of covenant friendship, that which is eternal, forever bonded. It's like that with Lorrie, along with a few others, and I am so very grateful. I could call any one of them if I was in need. And they would rescue me. Because like Jonathan and David, our souls are knit together. Once again, no picture, but if you want to see Lorrie, click the link above to my post about Rainbow. Lorrie is the beautiful girl standing to my right with long, brown hair. 

It wasn't Israel. It wasn't my plan for May. But it was good, nonetheless. I came home to Eli, Amanda, and Jane temporarily living here in our house (the nest is once again full, and I couldn't be happier!), but that is a story for another post, another time, so stay tuned.