So, here it is--the long-awaited photo.
Now you understand about the funny face. Anyway, this was based on The Shoe Project, which is kind-of a cool photo project done in San Francisco of random people and their shoes. If you can guess which shoes are mine, I'll give you a nickel. At least, I'll think about giving you a nickel.
This past weekend, I went down with the fam to Spring City to tour some of the historic homes in town. It's such a cool place. This is a picture of the home of my great-great-great Grandfather, Wiley Payne Allred. There's something about seeing a place where your ancestor lived. He suddenly seems real, and there is such a connection there.
There's also something to be said for eking out a living in the middle of nowhere and surviving in this desert country. I often wonder what made them stay, especially after he moved over to Emery. I think a bit of my heart is in each place. In fact, during the one time of my life when I spent significant time in a large city, I often thought of the wide open land and beautiful sunsets. When what I saw everyday was this:
I saw in my mind's eye and yearned for this:
I guess as much as I love the city, I'm not really a city girl at heart.
Another random musing for the day--first of all, isn't this just the most adorable Mother's Day card you've ever seen?
It's from my nephew, Will. I know, I'm not a mother, but hey, are we not all mothers? Something about watching a child discover language just melts my heart. Along those lines, may I just say that all mothers who work tirelessly night and day for their children's welfare are amazing? I was reading a co-worker's blog today, and she linked her "one of those days" stories to this talk she gave on Mother's Day. I absolutely loved it, and highly recommend it for your own reading pleasure. I love how honest she is--it's hard work, and she admits it, but at the same time, there is no other work that's quite as rewarding. I loved her comparison to a mission. How differently would we all act if we constantly saw our current position in life as a mission? Interesting.
First things first: the spring bulbs bloomed! Here's a photo of a couple daffodils (taken at night--excuse the quality).
Okay, so it's not exactly the ten thousand at a glance, but it's good enough.
Second, I must apologize for my lengthy absence. I'm not sure where April went. I think it got lost in this pile of boxes somewhere, since I spent a lot of April working out details for the Women's Conference school kits Humanitarian project I helped out with.
My last excuse is that I have recently started taking a statistics class. Before you yell for all to hear "Are you crazy?" Let me explain. After much deliberation, I have, indeed decided to go to graduate school, if anyone will take me. Part of that process for one program I will be applying for is taking an undergraduate-level statistics class. The professor in charge of that program suggested I take it before I take the GRE, since it will help with the math portion of the test. Considering I haven't cracked a math book in 10 years (and my last experience involved getting a big fat 1 on the AP Calculus test--yep, they actually give out 1s on AP tests), I took his advice. The only problem is, instead of enjoying sandy beaches this summer, I'll be calculating standard deviations. I'm not sure what I was thinking.
However, I did try to take Wordsworth's advice this weekend and let Nature be my teacher. I went to the park for a couple of hours while I did my stats homework yesterday. The weather was beautiful and really one of the first outside-weather days I've seen all year. Nature was indeed my teacher, but instead of teaching "truth breathed by cheerfulness," it taught me, once again, that fair-skinned people should stay away from exposure to the sun at all costs. A nice, uneven sunburn is always a good way to start off the season of hotness. Enough on that tangent.
I must say that part of my problem is that one of the last things I want to do when I come home from work is write more. I'm a writer, for heaven's sake. What's my problem? After thinking about this, I've decided that it's because I write or deal with words all day long in my profession, and to be a good, creative, and successful writer, I need to not be a writer 40 hours a week writing something else. I need to be a writer 40 hours a week writing the great American novel (ha). I can't really help that situation right now, so I guess the Pulitzer (or Newberry) will have to wait (more of a loud, raucous burst of laughter this time) until I'm independently wealthy and retired.
Oh, and one more random thought for the day: my face--and shoes--officially made it into the June issue of the magazine. I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I don't actually have a copy of the magazine just yet, but I've seen it out there. I'll post a picture when I get it for you all to enjoy. I say "enjoy" because the photo they used of me was one I begged the designers not to use, but for some odd reason they loved it. After seeing it, the editor-in-chief came over to my cube and said, "I just saw your photo for the shoe shoot. I've never seen that side of you before." Yeah. I know you're all curious now, but you'll just have to wait for the photo, or you'll have to pick up a copy of the magazine from the newsstand.
