I can't post about Black Friday until I finish October!

Yes, I know. I'm woefully behind. This has been the semester from hell, but it's almost over, and I am catching up on life. Especially blogging! And I can't write about our killer Black Friday yesterday until I finish up October, so here you go...

I wrote about General Conference. And I wrote about my shared birthday with Vice President Kamala Harris. Then, the month got away from me as I faced mid-semester writing projects from students in all eight of my classes. But October did not end with my birthday on the 20th. Not at all.

On October 26th, Eli and Amanda hosted their annual Halloween bash, once again a glowing success! We ate way too many treats, guessed how many pieces of candy were in a jar, and threw marshmallows at each other, but the highlight is always the famous mummy wrap.

Three days later on the 29th, Eli and Amanda's baby girl turned 3 years old. Happy birthday, Jane! They had a party for her earlier in the month. 

On her actual birthday, I hung our at their house and watched her open presents, well mostly watched; I fell asleep for part it (very long day), but woke up in time to see her open my present (clothes). After eight or nine toys, Jane's only comment on the two dresses and a pants outfit: "I don't like this stuff." All in all, we loved celebrating Jane, who is a happy, smart, and utterly hilarious three-year-old.

Finally, Halloween! I had class way up at the U. of Utah main campus that evening, so I was late getting back to the trick-or-treating festivities. Shulamith's kids were all off with their friends, so she and I tagged along with Eli and Amanda and Jane, who was fully committed to gathering as much candy as she possibly could, despite the freezing cold.

October is usually my favorite month. This year it came and went, and I felt like I was only barely above drowning. Most days, I wasn't sure I would come out the other side. But I did. With less than a week remaining in the semester, I know I will finish, and it feels so good. 

So while October and November were chaotic, December is gonna be bliss!

(Stay tuned for the report on what was possibly the most productive Black Friday in the history of Terrianne and Shulamith. For real.)

Triage: Stop the bleeding!

Me: I'm not gonna make it. I can't get this all done. There is no way. I'm probably gonna die.

Shulamith: You say that every semester.

Me: No, this is different.

Shulamith: You say that too.

Me: NO!! This time is totally different!

And it has been. The picture above is my desk in my home office, where I work most days. This revolving triage list is designed to prioritize the most urgent things I should be doing at every moment. With two weeks remaining in the semester, only in the past couple days have I felt confident that I will, indeed, finish it alive. Just before the semester began, I accepted a one-year, temporary, full-time position at SLCC. While I suspended teaching at UVU (with the promise from them that I can return next fall), I kept my three U. of Utah classes for two reasons. First, my new position at SLCC is a temporary, one-year contract. I have zero guarantee that it will renew in the fall, and it has nothing to do with me or my qualifications or performance, but solely with department needs and student enrollment. We have two full-time faculty on sabbatical this year, and they will return in the fall. There is no way to know how that could affect my temporary position. Second, the U. of Utah pays head and shoulders better than the other two schools. It's hard to turn down that kind of income.

It's been wild ride these past 3.5 months. Yikes! I have five classes at SLCC and three at the U. So many students. So many emails. So many essays! Plus the department meetings and tasks that are required in a full-time position. I will have a full month off beginning Dec 5th, before the chaos starts all over again, and I am crazy excited! I'm gonna play so hard, hurkle-durkle in my bed and binge TV, read every single thing that is not a college essay, take naps, walk miles and miles, and not even log onto Canvas or Outlook! I will sleep. So much sleep, uninterrupted by anxiety dreams about ridiculous stuff I'm convinced I was supposed to do and didn't. Once I even dreamed that I was supposed to teach one of my classes a dance routine but forgot. 

My break is still two weeks out...

Meanwhile, I'll keep on keepin' on. A few things have kept me almost sane, and I'll cling to those right till the end. Most significantly, my commitment to practicing self care. That means eating well, maintaining at least a minimal social life, and exercising. I'm blessed to have my best friend just out my back door and left 100 steps; two of my sons, plus bonus kid Amanda, 5-7 minutes away, another son in downtown SLC; and Emily up in Sandy. All these guys have kept me going, and I'm so grateful to each of them in different ways. Finally, through it all, I've stayed dedicated to regular exercise: 10,000+ steps a day, strength-training 4-5 days a week, including one morning a week at Courtney's 6:00 a.m. circuit class. I really believe exercise has made all the difference.

What has suffered most and what I've missed most notably is my regular blogging. It's more than just a hobby; for me, writing is therapy. Since the semester began, I've written only six blog posts, four on itslegs and two on my church blog. That is positively pathetic, considering how prolific the blog typically is. But something had to give, and that was it. 

Other than my birthday and General Conference, I missed the events of October altogether, so I'll be writing about those in a second post later today or tomorrow. I'm taking a tiny break to catch up before all the final writing projects start pouring in. 

So look for a new itslegs post right on top of this one! Hooray!

The worst part of all was seeing my kids so sad!

They say a mother is only ever as happy as her saddest child. 

It's true.

So as heartsick as I felt Tuesday night, the worst part of all was seeing my kids so sad. We all had so much hope. Eight years ago, when Donald J. Trump won the presidency the first time, I wrote this. I didn't like him. He had shown no decency; he had earned no respect. I had listened to his spiteful, venomous rhetoric throughout the campaign, his hatred toward our Muslim sisters and brothers and our hard-working Mexican immigrants; his excessive greed, his p***y-grabbing, outright distain for women. 

Still, at that point I didn't know what he was truly capable of. 

We..... didn't know. 

Now, we know. 

We watched as he stole one SCOTUS nominee from President Obama, winding up with three in total, who then turned the clock back 50 years on women's rights, freedom, and healthcare. We watched as he called those of us who disagree with his policies "the enemy from within," seeking to further divide an already polarized nation. We watched as he separated children from their families at our southern border, while trying to block all Muslims from entering the country. He is a 78-year-old convicted felon who was found liable for sexual assault! He refused to leave office peacefully when he lost the 2020 election to President Joe Biden, fueling a violent attack on the U.S. Capitol in order to stop the electoral vote-counting. He is currently under indictment on several different counts. 

And he told us during his recent campaign that he would be a "dictator" on Day 1. 

Now, we know. 

Now, we've elected him to a second term of office. 

And now, we have no excuse.

Be clear. Dictatorial tyranny is not just something we hear about in countries far away; the United States is not immune. Trump told us what he'll do. If we deliver this man a full trifecta, he's gonna do whatever he pleases, without constraint. Pray hard we don't lose the House. 

My family has been in varying stages of grief the past three days, fear for what lies ahead but also regret for what we gave up. We had such a good, good alternative. Kamala Harris and Tim Walz ran a fabulous campaign. Unlike their opponents, they sought to strengthen and unify people, to lift the discouraged, to hear the unheard, and to gather the isolated. I'm confident they would have made a wonderful President and Vice President, and we would have felt the impact of their strong, positive leadership for generations. 

Thank you, Kamala and Tim. I will never forget you. I will never forget the spirit of your campaign or how it made me feel inside. In the final days, Tim Walz asked supporters to consider a conversation they might have decades from now, when someone asks them what they did in the 2024 election to ensure an outcome that preserved democracy and promised hope, love, and joy. And our answer would be, "Every damn thing we could!"

Well that's what you did, Kamala and Tim! You ran relentlessly. You never stopped fighting. You never stopped reaching out. You never gave up on the core values you believe in. And though in the end, it wasn't enough, though in the end the American people preferred a rapist and convicted felon whose presence brings only anger, fear, and sadness, please know this....

You did every damn thing you could.

Happy birthday, Vice President Harris......(and me!)

I spent my 10th birthday with my grandparents in Eugene, Oregon, celebrating with U.S. Senator Wayne Morse. My grandfather was the president of the International Woodworkers of America, a labor union representing lumbermen, sawmill workers, and timber transportation workers throughout the United States and Canada. In this role, he met and became close friends with Senator Morse before I was born, so it was a happy surprise for both of them when I arrived on October 20th, sharing a birthday with Senator Morse. 

Vice President Kamala Harris shares that same birthday. I don’t know Vice President Harris personally like I did Senator Morse, but I’m proud to share a birthday with her. My mail-in ballot arrived yesterday. I haven’t had time to fill it out yet, but when I do, with so much hope and joy, I will cast my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz to be the next President and Vice President of the United States. If Senator Morse or my very cool grandpa were still alive, they would do the same.

Vice President Harris is kind. She is respectful and gracious. She is strong and eloquent and doesn’t back down when challenged. She is a smart, capable leader, whose vision for our nation is positive and hopeful. I trust her to put the good of the people ahead of her own desires because that’s what patriots do. Their focus is outward, not self-centered. 

My youngest child, Seth, shares a birthday on June 14th with another politician, ironically, the other candidate for president. I have apologized to Seth for this. I told him that, although I do prefer to wait for labor to begin naturally, if I’d had any idea back in the year 2000 the havoc this man would ultimately wreak on our country, I would have insisted on being induced a week early. Sorry, Seth! 

As Election Day approaches, now only 16 days away, my feelings grow more intense, intensely excited by the prospect of a Harris/Walz administration. These last four years have been so refreshing under President Biden, as he got up each morning, dug in, and did his job. And he did it well, for sure the most effective president of my lifetime. Without any scandals or middle-of-the-night tweets attacking people he doesn’t like, he just slept. Like a normal person. Then got up the next day and went back to work. That leadership style sought to unite rather than divide us, and that will undoubtedly be the goal of Kamala Harris as well. 

I’m also nervous. Really nervous. This election is far from decided. It promises to be another nail-biter, and we may not know the outcome when we go to bed the night of November 5th. Still, I know a few things for sure. 

I’m reminded of the 1992 election. President George W. Bush (senior), the incumbent, was defeated by Bill Clinton. Was that the outcome President Bush desired? Of course not! I’ll bet it was one of the saddest, most disappointing nights of his life. But you know what? You know what he did? When it became clear he had lost, President Bush made that phone call, the one honorable leaders have been making for decades. He called Bill Clinton on the phone to congratulate him on his victory and to wish him well. Then, on his last day in the White House, he left a handwritten letter to President Clinton on his desk in the Oval Office. That letter ended with the words, “I’m rooting hard for you!” Because he was! Patriots always put the good of the country over their own selfish desires. 

I did not support President Bush (either of them, actually). Their visions for the nation were far different from mine. I voted for their opponents in every single election they were part of. But I surely respect President Bush (senior) for accepting defeat with honor and thereby ensuring a peaceful and respectful transfer of power. 

You can be sure that if tragedy happens and Vice President Harris loses the election, she will make that phone call. She will make it. Because decency and democracy and the peaceful transfer of power are part of her core values, non-partisan values that make our nation what it is. She will put those values ahead of her ego, her selfishness, and her disappointment. And clearly, she will not stage an insurrection to attack and attempt to overthrow the Capitol just two months later. She will not stand by watching the chaos on TV, as her armed supporters violently attack police officers. Of that, you can be sure.

If she is elected, not everything will go as she hopes. It never does, and that’s actually a good thing because a balance of power is central to our democracy (though nothing would please me more than to deliver her a trifecta win). Regardless, I believe she will do all she can to restore women’s access to life-saving healthcare and to resurrect the bipartisan border bill that Trump had his minions shut down. 

 

Even more importantly, she will behave with decency and honor, reflecting the values critical for a person who holds the highest office in the land. She is not a convicted felon. She is not a rapist. She does not mock the disabled or make up ridiculous stories about Haitian refugees eating pets! She also isn’t delusional. She never decides to stop answering questions at rallies, in favor of standing up on the stage, swaying back and forth for half an hour, while “Ave Maria” plays in the background.

So Happy Birthday, Vice President Harris! I’m honored to share this day with you. I believe your birthday wish is the same as mine. Let’s make it happen Nov. 5th.

"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.