A dream, part 1

This is mainly for Krista.  She likes hearing about and sharing dreams.

I spent yesterday slacking off watching the first season of The Walking Dead, so of course my dreams were going to be trippy.

At 4am I woke up and decided I'd had enough of terrifying zombie dreams, so I deliriously opened the scriptures on my tablet.  I meant to go to the New Testament, but somehow ended up in the Pearl of Great Price, and this scripture floated around my dream memory for the next couple hours of sleep.  And also zombies.

10 And it came to pass that it was for the space of many hours before Moses did again receive his natural strength like unto man; and he said unto himself: Now, for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I have never supposed.


Part 1

I woke up, not quite sure where I was.  That feeling that you don’t remember going to bed here.  Yet, upon reflection, this IS my bed, it’s only logical that I went to sleep here.

James was next to me.

I needed to find the boat.

We need the boat.

Walking outside, I’m happy it’s light outside.  The heat of the sun sinks to my core, helping to dispel some of the chill.  It is late fall, and the frost has settled everywhere.

I was looking for something.

The boat.  It will be down by the river.

James walks with me to the river.  We’re almost ready, soon we’ll escape.

Hand in hand we pick our way along the frosty muddy riverbank.  I’m looking for something.

The boat.  No. Wait.

Something else.  We need the boat.

No.  Right there, just outside conscious thought… I’m looking for something else…

The boat isn’t where it’s supposed to be.  James is very upset.  Somehow I know we’ll get to it, it’s just a little further…

I urge James further.  I lie.  It probably just got unhooked and floated a little downstream.  I push a branch away from my face.  I know it’s a lie, but I need to keep looking.  What am I looking for?

I stumble and my foot slips, cracking the ice, sliding into the frigid water.  James catches me before anything else gets soaked.  He tries to convince me that we need to go back now, it’s getting to be about noon, but I just keep going forward.

My eyes scan the water.  Something. Something. What am I looking for?

James asks me a question.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what I’m looking for.

He stops me.  “Where is your ring?”  I don’t understand.   What ring?  “Your engagement ring.”  Looking down I suddenly realize I’m not wearing my ring. 

Have I been here before? 

Where is my ring?  I never take it off.  How could it be gone?  I stare at my hand in disbelief, trying to remember the last time I distinctly remember it being on my finger.

I look at James… I can’t remember.  Where is it? When did I take it off?  This feels important.  Why can’t I remember?  I don’t lose things.  I really don’t forget very often either… especially something as important as my ring.  It’s been on my finger for 7 years.  Where did it go?

Continuing to walk forward, I think.

I remember yesterday.  I think.   It was warmer.  I went on a boat ride by myself.  Wait.  By myself?  That doesn’t seem right… we’re supposed to stick together… why would I go off by myself?

Where is the boat?

Inside I scream.  Why can’t I remember?  I’ve never done drugs, but movies have portrayed this feeling.  This realization that you lost time, you don’t know how long you lost, or what you did.  Did I get drugged?

James stops me and points something out.  What?

He is pointing a corpse.  Strange.  There are so many corpses everywhere now, we mostly ignore them.

But he’s right, there is something strange about this one.

The river is calmer and wider here, and so clear.  At what seems the deepest point, there is a corpse of a brunette girl.  Face down in the muddy lake bed, her brown hair swirls lazily with the undercurrents.  Half buried in sediment, wearing jeans and a tee.  She has probably been down there a while.  Lucky her. 

Up here the dead get torn apart and eaten.

Maybe that’s what’s strange.  She’s intact, we haven’t seen an intact corpse in a while.  Wait.  Don’t corpses usually float in the water?

James observes that she isn’t bloated like most corpses, more like shriveled.  The extremely cold water of the river must have kept her gut bacteria from reproducing and bloating her.

Still, she entrances us.  I want to pull her up.  Examine her more closely, but there is really no way to do so.  It is much too cold to expose a person to those waters.  She is also far too deep for any clumsy attempts at knocking her loose with a rod.

A little further on we spot our canoe turned over on the far bank.  Definitely looking worse for wear.  Neither of us understand how it could have gotten so trashed in the short distance it had drifted downstream.

The days are shorter now.

Realizing how late it already is, we start back, boatless.  No way to cross the river today, we’ll have to work that out tomorrow.

The quickly gathering dusk gives us new speed, and we no longer follow the river.  Cutting through the sparse woods, we attempt to shorten our journey home.


To be continued... (no promises)

The monthly visitor

Yes.  This post is about periods.  If you don't want to read a blog post about periods, then you can stop reading.

That being said, I've never understood the big hush hush surrounding periods.

It's the monthly red devil.

The shame of womanhood.

Women in the new testament were so dirty while on their period, they were considered untouchable! What?!?

Heaven forbid if you have your period while on your honeymoon.  What an embarrassment!  What a disgrace!  Better plan your wedding date around your monthly cycle.

Women are uncontrollable when on their periods.  (who are you, and why do you think you have the right to control the women?)

I just don't understand.

The first time I got my period, I was ecstatic.  I had crossed the bar into womanhood.  Biology (and in my opinion, God) had just told me that I was trusted enough to create, bear, and raise a child.  I shouldn't go do it right now, but I was trusted enough to be able to choose the right time and make that decision.

Some people call children a burden or an enslavement of women.  I disagree.  As a feminist, I think that there is nothing more empowering then being told that you (with, lets face it, not very much help from a man) can create and birth another human being.  Can men do this.  No.  Sorry men.  You're not cool enough.  (sorry men, I like you, and the good ones are essential in the raising of children, but you're not doing the creating, the women are) Sorry... I digress...

Periods.

Why do people hate them.  (that's not a question, it's a statement.  Note the period.  ha!)

I don't know why, but despite all the negativity, the female-shaming, that surrounds periods, I've never been able to dislike mine.  More than that.  I appreciate and even enjoy my period.

Am I weird?  Am I the only one who looks at memes that bemoan the torment of the monthly cycle, and think... wow... I REALLY don't relate to that...  ?

Some fun things

Her name is Des Ta Te, she had to have part of one wing removed after getting shot there.

Last week James and I went on an awesome field trip to the Ogden Nature Center with our Wolf and Bear cub scouts.  Did you know there is a bald eagle there??  I didn't.  We saw a lot of beautiful birds of prey.  One of my scouts mentioned that it was sad seeing the bald eagle in a cage where it can't really fly.  I explained that usually these animals were bred in captivity by poachers, or were found injured and are being rehabilitated.  However, I didn't tell him that it was kind of sad to me too.

Last night I built a crane out of Legos while watching my human anatomy/physiology lectures online.  James tried to break it  :'(

Right now it is raining.  Hard.  There is also a lot of thunder.  It's pretty great.

My dad is going to play Lincoln in an indy film soon.  I get to do his makeup.  I'm a little nervous.  When you do makeup for film there is a difficult balance.  You can't do the same makeup that you do for theatre, because it is too obvious.  You have to be able to use subtle effects, but still create an accurate experience (you also need to allow for the comfort and freedom of facial expression for the actor).  Luckily, he is growing his beard similarly to Lincoln's, and he doesn't look TOO different... (meaning, it's a lot easier to turn HIM into Lincoln than it is to turn ME into Lincoln.)

I think the biggest problem will be the ears... I don't know... when you think Lincoln, do you think big ears?  Maybe I'll just do some shading to make them look a little larger.

James Graduated!

Congratulations JAMES!!!

James doesn't read this blog.

James doesn't read blogs.

So this is for all of you.

Thank you everyone who have been his support through this...  Also... this isn't the end of the story... please know we still need your support as much as ever ;)

Thank you everyone who came to the graduation party (both in physical form and in spirit).  James even admitted that he had a good time ;)

Elizabeth Smart

A lot of people remember Elizabeth Smart's abduction.  I feel like I remember it more clearly than most things that were happening at that time.  Mainly because of what we had in common: she is only a few months younger than me, I had lived in SLC for a while, we are both Mormon.  I remember fasting and praying for her, despite a clear understanding of what I was sure had happened to her.  I wanted to help look for her, but I knew no one would let me.

I remember the claims of news agencies that the evidence shows she just ran away, and that her sister was either covering her tracks or looking for attention.  I admired the strength of her sister to try her best despite so much public scrutiny and despite everyone second-guessing her (and telling her it wasn't enough).  I remember when her father was a suspect, and how the people around me also started to blame him (either outright - accusing him of murder, or round-about - it's his fault for letting all those ruffians into his house).  I remember how some people around me still blame him...

I have followed her closely, not in a seeking-after-celebrity way - but out of a genuine interest in how she was doing, since she survived.  I've wanted her to continue being okay.  When she was found I searched for pictures and information, but everything was kept very private.  I was always trying to find out more about her.  After she testified in court I would look up the new information, and I would look up pictures to see if she looked happy.  When she got married I looked for pictures and information as well.  There was a little bit of guilt though, because I didn't want to invade her privacy.

I recently went with my mom to Evanston's Healthy Woman Conference.  This is the second year in a row she has bought tickets for us.  This year, Elizabeth Smart was the speaker.  She did a great job, and I'm really glad that she told us her story.  When something bad happens to us, it is often hard to talk about it.  It really takes courage to invite people into the dark corners of our existence.

Grateful

Necklace I made for my grandma

I've made a friend recently.  I have several personality traits that can make me hard to be around, so I'm grateful for every new friend.

One day when I helping out at a local assisted living center, a patient showed the CNA one of her necklaces, it was broken, and she wanted it fixed.  I observed that it was a really easy fix, and told her that I would bring my jewelry pliers next time I came.

Well, it turned out that a lot of her jewelry was broken.

Luckily, I adore making and fixing jewelry.

The next time I came we sat for several hours.  She organized her jewelry, and set aside the things that needed fixing, and I repaired what I could (considering I had only brought my mini pliers).

While we sat we talked.  Her body betrays her, but you can tell that her regrets cause a lot more pain than her physical body does.  She has made a lot of changes in her life, but you can tell she feels like they came too late.  Her children blame her for a lot of their problems, and you can tell she agrees with them.  They openly shame and reject her for her earlier choices, and she feels like she deserves the way they treat her.

She is trying, despite her struggles, and that's what makes her beautiful to me.

When you're a teen you live by the idea that it is your life, YOLO (you only live once), etc.  I'm sure that everyone made decisions as a teen that they now regret (I know I did).  However, despite my devious desires, I had people around me who cared about me, and helped me to nurture values that kept me from straying as far as I might have.  I'm so grateful that I don't have the same burden of regrets as my new friend.


I'm not very good at remembering to say my morning or nightly prayers, but if I wake up especially grumpy, I'll say a quick and heartfelt prayer asking my Heavenly Father to help me notice all the blessings in my life.  Then as the day progresses, I'll say little prayers of gratitude for the things I've noticed.  This is one of those things.

Spring

Every year around this time I feel like Thumbelina.  I start seeing patches of warm sunlight and I exclaim, "The Sun!  The sun is shining again!!"  Nothing in life has really changed, but because winter is over, there is now hope in the world.

I then proceed to scramble desperately out of the mole hole.