"Can we please give you a ride to work?" (TBS = Throwback Saturday)

I know.

It's supposed to happen on Thursday. Throwback Thursday. 

And I actually planned this post in my head two days ago. On Thursday. The correct day. Let's just say this semester has started off a little sus. I think I'll be okay, but the first month has been abnormally chaotic and it's always chaotic. 

The chaos began over a month ago on August 7th, as I saw under a shade tent at Bear Lake, wearing my cute new swimsuit from Downeast Basics, sipping Diet Coke from my Stanley and eating Cheez-Its. My phone rang, but I didn't recognize the number, so I let it go. About two hours later, I noticed a voicemail. It was from my boss at SLCC, one of the three colleges where I teach as an adjunct English instructor. "Hi Terrianne, I want to offer you a one-year, full-time position in the department for this coming academic year." This began a whirlwind of discussion between her and me (salary, benefits, schedule, etc.) until ultimately, I accepted the position. I dropped my UVU classes, with the promise from my amazing program supervisor that I can return in the fall if this position at SLCC turns out to truly be just one year. I kept my classes at the U. because they pay too well to give them up, and I don't like to have ALL my proverbial eggs in one basket. So now I have lots of classes, lots and lots! 

Which is why I missed Throwback Thursday. Lots of classes = lots of grading! And I don't want to wait another five days to post this. 

Hence, Throwback Saturday:

When I was 17, a recent high school graduate and soon-to-be freshman at Willamette University, I got a summer job at First Interstate Bank in downtown Portland, Oregon. Dinosaurs did not roam the earth at that time, but young high school grads like me did roam this giant tower, up and down the elevator, pushing large mail carts that delivered physical mail to all the offices on all 40 stories. It was such a fun job! I met all the workers at all the desks as I brought everyone their mail. 

One crisp, bright morning, as I waited for my bus to arrive, a tan-colored, mid-sized sedan pulled up to the curb where the bus should go. I was the only person standing at that stop, and my body felt a twinge of panic as the passenger in shotgun rolled down her window.

"Can we please give you a ride to work?"

"Oh, thank you, but no, I'm good." (Like I'm gonna just jump in some strangers's car!)

"But you see, we carpool together, and our third person is sick today. Without her, we can't use the HOV lane, and we both really need to get to work on time. Would you please come with us?" 

I had only a split second to decide what to do, and my mind raced. Could they be axe murderers? But they look normal, around my parents' age, one man, one woman, both dressed in business clothes. And their explanation made sense. At that time, three occupants were required for a car to use the HOV lane, and really, who could make up such a silly story?

"Uh, okay?" And yes, just like that, I jumped into the backseat of some stranger's car.

As the man drove us downtown, we chatted about the basics, where they worked, where I worked, my college plans, their dinner plans. The three of them were not related; they were just neighbors who carpooled downtown together. They dropped me off right in front or the giant First Interstate Bank tower. I said thank you, and waved goodbye.

Thus began a summer-long friendship between me and three middle-aged carpoolers. Because the very next day they came to my bus stop again, this time with their third rider in the backseat. "We'll drive you!" the woman in front shouted out the window. I jumped right in. This pattern continued every day until I quit in late August to move to Salem for college.

All these years later, I can't even remember their names. But I remember what they looked like. The man always wore a suit and tie, hair short and neatly combed. The two ladies both wore business pantsuits or skirts and blouses. Their hair was always nicely styled, their makeup fresh. They seemed so old.

Last Tuesday, Eli's key fob battery died, and the spare key inside did not work to open the car. He was stranded and needed to get to work, so I picked him up and drove him. As we pulled onto I-15, he mentioned that we could use the HOV lane (which now only requires two occupants). When he said that, I remembered these people. My three carpool friends from long ago.

This should have been a Throwback Thursday post, but Throwback Saturday works too. Who needs alliteration anyway?

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.