Monday, December 8, 2008
Antietam Luminaries
Every year, usually the first Saturday in December, luminaries are set up at Antietam National Battlefield for every casualty of the battle, which was the bloodiest day on American soil. Over 23,000 soldiers were killed, injured or missing in a single day. This year, four of us made the trek to Antietam to experience the beauty and remember those that gave their lives. The photos below don't really express what we saw, but they are the best we could do under the circumstances.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Cross Country Ski Race
So I am sitting here folding clothes, and I just folded a free t-shirt that I got. It was made by Sundance, and whoever designed it, wasn't thinking very clearly, it is a dark green with a silkscreen on it with black ink...yeah pretty much unreadable unless you are way too close. The shirt says, "Free your heel, and your mind will follow." Well the story of just how I got this shirt is a funny one...
At the time I was working in a laboratory on BYU's campus. One of my fellow lab mates told me of an upcoming cross country ski race that was happening at the Sundance Nordic Track up in Provo canyon. She knew that I cross country skied and suggested that I go up and enter the race. I asked her if the race was both skating and touring.
At this point, if you don't know much about cross country skiing, you need a quick lesson. There are two VERY different types. Skate skiing is more similar to rollerblading on snow with really long blades. You push out on your skis as you go creating V lines as you go along the trail. In order to skate ski, you must be on groomed trails, it doesn't work on snow that you "sink" in, so if the trail isn't groomed the snow must be firm and not powder. The other type of cross country skiing is referred to as Classic or sometimes touring. This is the type that most people are familiar with--parallel skis going forwards and backwards (see nordic track). This type of skiing can be done on either groomed or in back country, anywhere there is snow really. These two types are so very different that you don't skate with touring skis, and you don't tour with skating skis. As you might guess, skating is MUCH MUCH faster if you know how to do it properly.
So back to my story...my friend assured me that there would definitely be classic skiers as well as skaters. This put my mind at ease since I only owned classic skis and never learned to skate (someday, someday). So I thought about it, and decided to go--with the assurance that my friend would be coming as well. The morning of the race arrived, I think you can guess what happened. Yeah, I was one of like 3 people on classic skis, surrounded by skaters. This wasn't going to be pretty. And my friends? Oh wait....I was there all....by....myself. Ok, I can do this, I mean what have I got to lose besides ALL of my dignity.
The skaters were off, I could see them for the first few yards, but soon...well soon I was just enjoying a lovely little stroll through the snow all by myself--which on a regular cross country ski day is wonderful, but on a race day, somewhat humiliating. However, in these circumstances I usually say, who cares, no one here knows me, I'll likely never see any of these people again...and just laughed it off as I crossed the finish line LONG after the leaders. Naturally, Murphy wasn't done with me yet, as I was nearing the finish line there was one of the staff from my high school..."Hey there! I know you..."
Well, at least I got a free t-shirt at the drawing afterwards.
At the time I was working in a laboratory on BYU's campus. One of my fellow lab mates told me of an upcoming cross country ski race that was happening at the Sundance Nordic Track up in Provo canyon. She knew that I cross country skied and suggested that I go up and enter the race. I asked her if the race was both skating and touring.
At this point, if you don't know much about cross country skiing, you need a quick lesson. There are two VERY different types. Skate skiing is more similar to rollerblading on snow with really long blades. You push out on your skis as you go creating V lines as you go along the trail. In order to skate ski, you must be on groomed trails, it doesn't work on snow that you "sink" in, so if the trail isn't groomed the snow must be firm and not powder. The other type of cross country skiing is referred to as Classic or sometimes touring. This is the type that most people are familiar with--parallel skis going forwards and backwards (see nordic track). This type of skiing can be done on either groomed or in back country, anywhere there is snow really. These two types are so very different that you don't skate with touring skis, and you don't tour with skating skis. As you might guess, skating is MUCH MUCH faster if you know how to do it properly.
So back to my story...my friend assured me that there would definitely be classic skiers as well as skaters. This put my mind at ease since I only owned classic skis and never learned to skate (someday, someday). So I thought about it, and decided to go--with the assurance that my friend would be coming as well. The morning of the race arrived, I think you can guess what happened. Yeah, I was one of like 3 people on classic skis, surrounded by skaters. This wasn't going to be pretty. And my friends? Oh wait....I was there all....by....myself. Ok, I can do this, I mean what have I got to lose besides ALL of my dignity.
The skaters were off, I could see them for the first few yards, but soon...well soon I was just enjoying a lovely little stroll through the snow all by myself--which on a regular cross country ski day is wonderful, but on a race day, somewhat humiliating. However, in these circumstances I usually say, who cares, no one here knows me, I'll likely never see any of these people again...and just laughed it off as I crossed the finish line LONG after the leaders. Naturally, Murphy wasn't done with me yet, as I was nearing the finish line there was one of the staff from my high school..."Hey there! I know you..."
Well, at least I got a free t-shirt at the drawing afterwards.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Fall 2008
So where was I this last Monday to take such wonderful fall pictures? Maybe I was in Maine? New Hampshire? Vermont? Nope, the middle of northwest DC. In fact these pictures were taken just 5 miles from the White House. One of the things that I love about DC is the parkways that we have, particularly the Rock Creek Parkway and Rock Creek Park (where these pictures were taken; and coincidentally made famous nationwide when Chandra Levy's body was found in the park). You can be right in the middle of the city and you feel like you are miles away from civilization. What's even better is that my two favorite parkways are the Rock Creek Parkway and the George Washington Parkway...and from where I live the two fastest ways to get to the DC temple is by using one of those two parkways.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Pavlova
Pavlova is a meringue based dessert that was named for the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova who was considered the greatest ballerina of her time. The dessert is reminiscent of a ballerina is that it is very light and airy. Traditionally the dessert consists of a meringue base, then whip cream, and then fruit on top. I have modified how I make it however in that I fold whip cream in with vanilla pudding and use that as a second layer. This gives the dessert a bit more depth than just whipped cream. Any fresh fruit can be used, let your imagination guide what you think would work.
Meringue Base
4 large egg whites
1 cup supferfine (castor) sugar
1 tsp white vinegar
1/2 tablespoon cornstarch
Preheat oven to 250 degrees.
Beat the egg whites until they form soft peaks. Slowly add the sugar a tablespoon at a time. Continue beating until stiff peaks are formed. Also you should be able to rub the meringue between your fingers and not feel any grainy sugar. If you are still feeling grit, continue beating until the sugar dissolves into the egg whites. Sprinkle the merinuge with the vinegar and corstarch and fold in.
The merinuge must be then transferred to a piece of parchment paper on a cookie sheet and shaped into your base making sure to keep the side higher to hold in the "filling." If you want more of a marshmallowy textutre in your meringue you will want to work more to create height to your meringue. If you want more of a crispy texture you will want more width. Generally the typical area you will want is about a seven inch circle.
Transfer the cookie sheet to the pre-heated oven and bake for 1 hour 15 minutes. The outside should be dry and the meringue should have a pale color. Turn the oven off and let the meringue cool in the oven with the door slightly open. The meringue can then be removed and stored for a few days if needs be. Remember that it must be stored in a cool and DRY place. Meringue exposed to moisture will quickly fall apart.
Vanilla Pudding
1/2 Cup Sugar
2 Tbs cornstarch
1/2 tsp salt
2 C milk
2 Tbs butter
2 tsp vanilla
1 Cup cream
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 Tablespoons sugar
Combine sugar cornstarch and salt in a medium saucepan. Add milk and cook on medium high heat. Cook the pudding stirring constantly until the mixture starts to thicken up and starts to boil. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the butter and the vanilla. Let the pan cool for 5 minutes and then apply plastic wrap to the top of the pudding (so that it doesn't develop a skin) and transfer the pan to the refridgerator and let it chill completely.
Beat the cream vanilla and sugar together until soft peaks form.
Remove the chilled pudding from the refridgerator and whisk a bit to make it smooth. Then fold in the whipped cream. This will create enough for approximately two pavlovas, so the recipe can be halved, or you can use the pudding and/or pudding whip cream mixture for other items.
Assembling the Pavlova
Fill your meringue base with half of the pudding/whip cream mixture. Top with fresh fruit such as: strawberries, peaches, blackberries, kiwi, passionfruit, etc.
Enjoy!
NOTE!! Pavlova will quickly disintegrated as the moisture from the pudding will dissolve the meringue base. This is a dessert that once it has been assembled it must be eaten within a few hours before it is just a mushy mess.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Instant Applesauce
Wow time flies by, and suddenly it is September. With the onset of Fall, I am always reminded of the orchard my family owned growing up. The orchard was my grandfather's, but my family only lived about 30 minutes away and thus we were often helping out at the orchard on weekends and even some weeknights in the Fall.
Growing up I wasn't a big fan of the orchard, however, as I've gotten older, I sometimes miss those Fall days spent near the mouth of Payson canyon. It was on the orchard that my siblings and I learned the first stages of driving as we took the old tractor up and down the rows of apple and cherry trees usually with the flat bed trailer following behind. The trailer would often times be loaded down with bushels of newly picked apples that would then have to be taken to the packing shed where they would be polished and sorted.
Dull apples that had been picked from the trees would have leaves hand picked off of them and then they would roll over a series of brushes that would shine them up and take the dust off. They would then run up a conveyor belt roll down a gradually widening track which would thus sort the apples by size. Most of my time spent on the apple sorter would be spent pulling apples from the bins where they had been deposited and putting them into bushel baskets which would then later be sold.
While the orchard often had many chores to be done, we of course found ways to cause mischief. One particular day my sister and I learned to flip apples. We were down, far away from the packing shed at the other end of the orchard. Naturally there would always be apples littering the ground that had fallen off and would usually be left to either rot or some people would come and gather them for juicing later. We found that if we took the apples and put them on a slight flexible stick we could whip the stick and then the apples would bo soaring through the air--what a great discovery! We were near the road, and so we would flip the apples from our orchard to the other orchard across the road, just to see how far we could get them to go. Luckily we were smart enough that whenever we saw a car coming we would wait until the car had passed before resuming our new past time. What we didn't consider as much were the power and telephone lines that ran along the other side of the road. I don't remember which one of us actually hit the line, but as soon as the apple touched it seemed to just explode--what exactly happened I'm not entirely sure, but I am pretty sure there are better ways of making applesauce.
Growing up I wasn't a big fan of the orchard, however, as I've gotten older, I sometimes miss those Fall days spent near the mouth of Payson canyon. It was on the orchard that my siblings and I learned the first stages of driving as we took the old tractor up and down the rows of apple and cherry trees usually with the flat bed trailer following behind. The trailer would often times be loaded down with bushels of newly picked apples that would then have to be taken to the packing shed where they would be polished and sorted.
Dull apples that had been picked from the trees would have leaves hand picked off of them and then they would roll over a series of brushes that would shine them up and take the dust off. They would then run up a conveyor belt roll down a gradually widening track which would thus sort the apples by size. Most of my time spent on the apple sorter would be spent pulling apples from the bins where they had been deposited and putting them into bushel baskets which would then later be sold.
While the orchard often had many chores to be done, we of course found ways to cause mischief. One particular day my sister and I learned to flip apples. We were down, far away from the packing shed at the other end of the orchard. Naturally there would always be apples littering the ground that had fallen off and would usually be left to either rot or some people would come and gather them for juicing later. We found that if we took the apples and put them on a slight flexible stick we could whip the stick and then the apples would bo soaring through the air--what a great discovery! We were near the road, and so we would flip the apples from our orchard to the other orchard across the road, just to see how far we could get them to go. Luckily we were smart enough that whenever we saw a car coming we would wait until the car had passed before resuming our new past time. What we didn't consider as much were the power and telephone lines that ran along the other side of the road. I don't remember which one of us actually hit the line, but as soon as the apple touched it seemed to just explode--what exactly happened I'm not entirely sure, but I am pretty sure there are better ways of making applesauce.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Peep Show
This post is a bit outdated as far as things happening in my life, but oh well, better late then never.
Last year the Washington Post held a competition for people to display Peeps in diorama style. Yes, I do mean Peeps, the little sugar coated marshmallow treats that were originally associated with Easter, but now seem to pop up at every holiday. The reaction was so overwhelmingly positive that I believe that it will become an annual tradition.
This year, I was lucky enough to be able to see the Peep Show in person at Art-o-matic (an art show for amature artists usually put in a building that is being renovated). Below are some of my favorites from this year's Peep Show.
Abbey Road
To view 2007's Peep show finalists, click here.
Last year the Washington Post held a competition for people to display Peeps in diorama style. Yes, I do mean Peeps, the little sugar coated marshmallow treats that were originally associated with Easter, but now seem to pop up at every holiday. The reaction was so overwhelmingly positive that I believe that it will become an annual tradition.
This year, I was lucky enough to be able to see the Peep Show in person at Art-o-matic (an art show for amature artists usually put in a building that is being renovated). Below are some of my favorites from this year's Peep Show.
Abbey Road
Lunch building the skycraper (from the famous photograph)
Moving of "The Awakening" (a statue that was moved from Hain's Point to the Capitol Harbor Project, much to my dismay)
Fra-gee-lay! (A Christmas Story)
Project Peepway
To view 2007's Peep show finalists, click here.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
My Twin
I'd like to dedicate this blog to my twin. Many of you may not know that I have a twin, but I do. My twin's name is Elizabeth, and she's a great twin, one of the best to have--and those of you that know her will definitely agree to how wonderful she is. Now my twin may have been born a few years before I was, but miraculously, we are actually the same age. Don't ask, just accept.
So a few years back, my twin told me, "When you are rich and famous, I just want one thing. Just one. A nice beautiful Hummer in my driveway." (This was when gas prices were below $3 a gallon, remember those days? sigh....)
"And what color of a Hummer would you like?"
"Green. That's all I am asking for, a green Hummer. It isn't much, but it would make me very happy."
Again, those of you that know my twin, know that you don't tell her no. If she makes a request, you do it. That's just how it is. I don't think my twin realized that I would fulfill this wish, but, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.
Fast forward a year or so...it was coming up to our birthday, when suddenly I said....I have a job now, it is time for me to buy my twin her Hummer. However, I realized that it was a bit late to have the Hummer delivered in time for the actual birthday. This didn't deter me though, it had to be done this year. So I did it, I bought a brand new green Hummer for my twin and had it delivered directly to her door.
Now every year I call my twin on our birthday and wish her a happy birthday, and so I did this year as well. However, I didn't tell her of the coming delivery that she would be receiving in the next few days, I wanted it to come as a shock when she walked up her driveway to see a sparkling brand new Hummer for her to have fun with.
The day finally arrived, and the Hummer was delivered. My twin said it was one of the best presents that she had ever received and was so excited to play with her brand new Hummer and immediately thanked me for such a wonderful gift.
Unfortunately, I have yet to see the gift, as I have not been able to visit my twin's house since when I bought her the gift, however, I have pasted the picture below from the site that I bought the Hummer from so you can all enjoy the beauty of this fine piece of technology.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Driving a manual transmission
So I drive a manual transmission car. What can I say, I love shifting gears as I speed down the highway. Often people will ask me if it gets annoying to drive in traffic with a manual transmission, always putting in the clutch as you are in bumper to bumper traffic. Sure, that can be annoying at times, but in the end, yeah definitely all worth it. However, there are certain things to remember when driving a manual transmission...
I got home one night and my mind was occupied on something or other, who knows what. I proceeded to get out of my car and shut the door. Out of habit, I immediately locked the car with my keys. I started to walk towards my house when I noticed that my car was rolling backwards down the very slight incline that there is in front of my house. Ack!!!! I had forgotten to enage the parking brake!
Instinctively I ran back to the car, jerking on the handle, only to realize, that yes, I had indeed locked the car. I fumble through my pocket for the keys (this is the part that you are glad for keyless unlocking so I didn't have to put the key into the lock itself) and somehow manage to get the car unlocked.
At this point the car is going slightly faster. My heart is racing as I jerk the door open and pull on the parking brake. Phew! And today must have been my lucky day because there was no one parked immediately behind me--however, lesson learned--don't forget to use your parking brake if you drive a manual transmission! (ok I knew this lesson beforehand, sometimes I just need a refresher now and then).
I got home one night and my mind was occupied on something or other, who knows what. I proceeded to get out of my car and shut the door. Out of habit, I immediately locked the car with my keys. I started to walk towards my house when I noticed that my car was rolling backwards down the very slight incline that there is in front of my house. Ack!!!! I had forgotten to enage the parking brake!
Instinctively I ran back to the car, jerking on the handle, only to realize, that yes, I had indeed locked the car. I fumble through my pocket for the keys (this is the part that you are glad for keyless unlocking so I didn't have to put the key into the lock itself) and somehow manage to get the car unlocked.
At this point the car is going slightly faster. My heart is racing as I jerk the door open and pull on the parking brake. Phew! And today must have been my lucky day because there was no one parked immediately behind me--however, lesson learned--don't forget to use your parking brake if you drive a manual transmission! (ok I knew this lesson beforehand, sometimes I just need a refresher now and then).
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Fresh Fruit Tart
Well, summer has arrived and with it, fruit is coming on. Now I admit this post is a little bit erroneous in that I bought the strawberries at Costco and thus I could have bought them at any time of year...and the blueberries were actually frozen from last summer (blueberries don't come on here until about July). Nevertheless, it was a nice summer treat. I could re-write the recipe...but instead it is probably just easier to post the website address.
http://www.joyofbaking.com/FruitTart.html
Enjoy!
http://www.joyofbaking.com/FruitTart.html
Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Lighting up the National Cathedral
So one of the joys of living in a large international city is having a variety of events being brought in. A few weeks ago the embassies opened their doors to visitors and throughout the intervening weeks, a variety of cultural events were presented around town. One such event was a lighting presentation at the National Cathedral. I could go on, but I think the pictures speak for themselves.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Azaela Festival at The National Arboretum
So I have decided to diversify my blog a bit and include other topics besides just random stories. This is the beginning of such posts. So one topic that I am going to do from time to time is different locations that I recommend. Usually these will be in the greater DC area, so those of you that don't live here will be able to see some of the sites without having to pay the enormous cost of an airline ticket. For those readers that do live in the DC area, I hope I will introduce you to at least a few places that you may have not been before.Thus we begin with the National Arboretum. The National Aboretum was established in 1927 by an act of Congress. The Arboretum sprawls over 446 acres and includes 9.5 miles of winding roadways. For more information about the arboretum, please visit http://www.usna.usda.gov/. Washington is well known worldwide for its annual Cherry Blossom festival, however, a bit less well known, but just as beautiful is the Azaela Festival at the Arboretum. Below I have included a few pictures of this year's blooms.
Also, during the same time of year the dogwoods are in bloom. Dogwood is a favorite in Virginia as it is both our state flower as well as our state tree (props to Jill for educating me on this).
Also, during the same time of year the dogwoods are in bloom. Dogwood is a favorite in Virginia as it is both our state flower as well as our state tree (props to Jill for educating me on this).
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Registering for school
Wow, here it was, I was finally 5 year old and I was going to be getting ready to register for kindergarten! A very exciting time for any five year old. My family lived about half of a mile from the elementary school, and thus it was only a short walk.
There is an asphalt path that connects my neighborhood to the neighborhood that the school is in. At the time, it was almost just as fast to walk the path as it was to drive in that the path was a direct route whereas driving you had to go around. Since that time, a road has been built alongside the path where horse fields used to be. However, this was long before construction in the horse fields was ever even thought of. I guess we were pretty practical as far as what we called things then, because the name of this path was, naturally, "the path." Everyone in the neighborhood called it that, where is so and so? oh he is on the path.
About half way down the path from the neighborhood there was an irrigation ditch that you had to cross over on a wooden bridge. Now this was no regular irregation ditch, though. In our mind , it was one of the central ditches in the area, and quite a large one at that. Thus, it's name was "The Big Ditch."
So there I was walking down the path with my mom and we suddenly got to the bridge over the big ditch. At this point I had a great idea! I was going to skip some rocks in one of the side ditches that came off of The Big Ditch. It was a new trick that I hadn't quite mastered yet, but I wanted to try. Well, you probably don't need me to explain this, but skipping rocks in a ditch....well it isn't something that works too well, especially if you are only 5. However....I was 5, and thus the logic of why it wouldn't work didn't really dawn on me.
After a couple of failed attempts, I decided I wasn't trying hard enough, and I really needed to go at it full strength, especially since my mom was ready to keep moving and I was holding up the purpose of the trip. It was decided that this would be the last rock I could throw. I threw that rock as hard as I possible could. So hard, in fact, that I actually followed that rock right into the ditch I had thrown it in. It was quite a shock to land in cold water, and suddenly realize that I was completely soaked through. While it made the delay even worse, I'm sure my mom found some humor in the whole situation as we hurried back home. I changed my clothes and sat at home wrapped in a blanket as my mom took the path back to the school and registered me for school without me even getting to be a part of it.
There is an asphalt path that connects my neighborhood to the neighborhood that the school is in. At the time, it was almost just as fast to walk the path as it was to drive in that the path was a direct route whereas driving you had to go around. Since that time, a road has been built alongside the path where horse fields used to be. However, this was long before construction in the horse fields was ever even thought of. I guess we were pretty practical as far as what we called things then, because the name of this path was, naturally, "the path." Everyone in the neighborhood called it that, where is so and so? oh he is on the path.
About half way down the path from the neighborhood there was an irrigation ditch that you had to cross over on a wooden bridge. Now this was no regular irregation ditch, though. In our mind , it was one of the central ditches in the area, and quite a large one at that. Thus, it's name was "The Big Ditch."
So there I was walking down the path with my mom and we suddenly got to the bridge over the big ditch. At this point I had a great idea! I was going to skip some rocks in one of the side ditches that came off of The Big Ditch. It was a new trick that I hadn't quite mastered yet, but I wanted to try. Well, you probably don't need me to explain this, but skipping rocks in a ditch....well it isn't something that works too well, especially if you are only 5. However....I was 5, and thus the logic of why it wouldn't work didn't really dawn on me.
After a couple of failed attempts, I decided I wasn't trying hard enough, and I really needed to go at it full strength, especially since my mom was ready to keep moving and I was holding up the purpose of the trip. It was decided that this would be the last rock I could throw. I threw that rock as hard as I possible could. So hard, in fact, that I actually followed that rock right into the ditch I had thrown it in. It was quite a shock to land in cold water, and suddenly realize that I was completely soaked through. While it made the delay even worse, I'm sure my mom found some humor in the whole situation as we hurried back home. I changed my clothes and sat at home wrapped in a blanket as my mom took the path back to the school and registered me for school without me even getting to be a part of it.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
My one trip to the hospital
So I've been kind of lucky throughout my life, I've never broken a bone and I have only been to a real hospital for myself once (while I have had other 'emergencies' only once did I go to an actual hospital)...and it was a long time ago....apparently the experience was traumatic enough that I haven't been for myself since.
I was about 4 or 5 I'd say, I really don't remember my specific age, but I was old enough that I wasn't always being watched constantly, but young enough to still get a whole heap of trouble without knowing it.
My family had gone to my grandparent's house in Payson, Utah. I don't remember what the occasion was, but it must have been either a holiday or a birthday because my cousins were all there as well.
It was a warm day, probably either in the spring or summer, and I remember that we were playing out in the yard. Most of my siblings were out in the front yard playing in the maple tree that grew right on the curb. Trees are always a great source of entertainment to kids whether you are climbing them or being chased around them. However, I was not quite tall enough to master the ability to climb the tree yet, and also was young enough that playing with the siblings and cousins meant me losing, and therefore my interest was drawn by something else entirely.
The week before the neighbors had been playing baseball and one of the balls had broken a basement window of my grandparent's house. I clearly remember my sister telling me...stay away from the broken window, glass is sharp. However, the interest was too great, I mean how often do you get to see a broken window as a child? Well, for me, it wasn't too often as a child.
I drew nearer and nearer. Suddenly I was there standing right by the window. All the adults were inside in the living room chatting away about this and that, and all the other children's attention is focused solely on the game that was taking place on the front lawn.
Now was my chance. This window didn't look that sharp to me. I stuck my hand in the hole. Slowly, I lifted my middle finger to the edge of a window only to discover that the glass had pierced my skin. I quickly pulled my hand away slicing my finger open from the middle to the tip.
Everyone's attention was suddenly changed as my screaming caught them off guard. I was rushed inside the house in the bathroom where a there was a quick venture with the sink and a washrag...which is actually where my memory ends, but not the story.
I was immediately rushed to the Payson Hospital, where, for a time, it was feared that I might lose my finger. Clearly the pain and trauma of the whole adventure was a bit much for me to handle and I refused to keep still enough for the doctor to attempt to stitch up my finger. Drastic measures had to be taken. Why exactly, or how it was done, I don't know, but the story goes that my finger had to be first stitched to the bed so that it could be kept still enough for the cut to be sewn up.
Luckily, I still have full use of the finger, however, I have a long scar down my left middle finger reminding me, that yes, glass is indeed sharp.
I was about 4 or 5 I'd say, I really don't remember my specific age, but I was old enough that I wasn't always being watched constantly, but young enough to still get a whole heap of trouble without knowing it.
My family had gone to my grandparent's house in Payson, Utah. I don't remember what the occasion was, but it must have been either a holiday or a birthday because my cousins were all there as well.
It was a warm day, probably either in the spring or summer, and I remember that we were playing out in the yard. Most of my siblings were out in the front yard playing in the maple tree that grew right on the curb. Trees are always a great source of entertainment to kids whether you are climbing them or being chased around them. However, I was not quite tall enough to master the ability to climb the tree yet, and also was young enough that playing with the siblings and cousins meant me losing, and therefore my interest was drawn by something else entirely.
The week before the neighbors had been playing baseball and one of the balls had broken a basement window of my grandparent's house. I clearly remember my sister telling me...stay away from the broken window, glass is sharp. However, the interest was too great, I mean how often do you get to see a broken window as a child? Well, for me, it wasn't too often as a child.
I drew nearer and nearer. Suddenly I was there standing right by the window. All the adults were inside in the living room chatting away about this and that, and all the other children's attention is focused solely on the game that was taking place on the front lawn.
Now was my chance. This window didn't look that sharp to me. I stuck my hand in the hole. Slowly, I lifted my middle finger to the edge of a window only to discover that the glass had pierced my skin. I quickly pulled my hand away slicing my finger open from the middle to the tip.
Everyone's attention was suddenly changed as my screaming caught them off guard. I was rushed inside the house in the bathroom where a there was a quick venture with the sink and a washrag...which is actually where my memory ends, but not the story.
I was immediately rushed to the Payson Hospital, where, for a time, it was feared that I might lose my finger. Clearly the pain and trauma of the whole adventure was a bit much for me to handle and I refused to keep still enough for the doctor to attempt to stitch up my finger. Drastic measures had to be taken. Why exactly, or how it was done, I don't know, but the story goes that my finger had to be first stitched to the bed so that it could be kept still enough for the cut to be sewn up.
Luckily, I still have full use of the finger, however, I have a long scar down my left middle finger reminding me, that yes, glass is indeed sharp.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Been tagged...
Well I guess I am it as far as the blog tag game goes and I have to write six unique things about me eh....? Well here goes...
1) Other than my mission and two study abroads, I have only lived at three addresses in my life (sad I know....)
2) In high school I dropped out of running for Student Body President the day before the first primary election (we had two because the choir was going to be gone during the main primary).
3) All of my immediate family has J names...I guess my name is only appropriate.
4) I used to completely clam up in interviews and other formal settings, even when it was just practicing.
5) At BYU I actually worked with tobacco plants that were growing on campus.....shhhhh!!!
6) I used to be in a steel drum ensemble.
Now as far as tagging people....let's say Holli, Cherie, and Ben....you're it!
1) Other than my mission and two study abroads, I have only lived at three addresses in my life (sad I know....)
2) In high school I dropped out of running for Student Body President the day before the first primary election (we had two because the choir was going to be gone during the main primary).
3) All of my immediate family has J names...I guess my name is only appropriate.
4) I used to completely clam up in interviews and other formal settings, even when it was just practicing.
5) At BYU I actually worked with tobacco plants that were growing on campus.....shhhhh!!!
6) I used to be in a steel drum ensemble.
Now as far as tagging people....let's say Holli, Cherie, and Ben....you're it!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Swiss Chris Volume 3
It was December....a cold...snowy....Saturday morning, in December. I was just leaving the apartment to hit the gym, and Chris said he wanted to come along. Fine, okay. We arrived at the gym and I checked in and Chris, who wasn't a member started sweet talking the girl behind the counter. I'm not sure why women would react to him, to be honest I think his accent caught their attention. I left them and began my work out, only to run into Chris again when I was done.
"We should hit the tanning beds," Chris suggested.
"Errr....no. It is December, you aren't supposed to be tan in December. Plus I am not someone that wants to pay to lay against lights, sorry. Plus, look at your complexion, you are about as white as they come man, it would NOT be a good idea for you to go tanning."
He tried to argue, but he couldn't say much, he didn't own a car and I was leaving, so if he didn't come then, it was going to be a miserable cold walk home.
Throughout the fall I had been telling stories about Swiss Chris and my co-workers were dieing to meet him. I finally arranged a night for them to come over to "have dinner" but really it was just a pretense for them to run into him and see just how much he would hit on them. The night arrived....however, Swiss Chris was in his room, and not coming out. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened. It also turns out that only one of my co-workers showed up, the other being detained somewhere.
About 9:30 that night I was in my room doing something on my computer and there was a knock at the door. I hear Chris get up and answer the door, and then the door shuts as I hear him going back to his room and stating, "The door is for you." As I open my door, I think I see him shoot past and wearing little if anything, which make me wonder just how he answered the door....
I open the door and find my other co-worker. She is a bit confused at why the door had been shut on her, but I let her in and we talk for a bit. After about 15 minutes, Chris can't hold out any longer, and comes out dressed in his matching set of pajamas. And then we see saw him...except there was something a bit different....he was the exact color of a beet--it practically hurt us just to look at him, and partially hurt not to laugh.
Turns out Chris decided I didn't know what I was talking about and went to the tanning bed and stayed in for 15 minutes. He later said it hurt him to even wear clothes...I guess that explains why he didn't invite the coworker in....
"We should hit the tanning beds," Chris suggested.
"Errr....no. It is December, you aren't supposed to be tan in December. Plus I am not someone that wants to pay to lay against lights, sorry. Plus, look at your complexion, you are about as white as they come man, it would NOT be a good idea for you to go tanning."
He tried to argue, but he couldn't say much, he didn't own a car and I was leaving, so if he didn't come then, it was going to be a miserable cold walk home.
Throughout the fall I had been telling stories about Swiss Chris and my co-workers were dieing to meet him. I finally arranged a night for them to come over to "have dinner" but really it was just a pretense for them to run into him and see just how much he would hit on them. The night arrived....however, Swiss Chris was in his room, and not coming out. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened. It also turns out that only one of my co-workers showed up, the other being detained somewhere.
About 9:30 that night I was in my room doing something on my computer and there was a knock at the door. I hear Chris get up and answer the door, and then the door shuts as I hear him going back to his room and stating, "The door is for you." As I open my door, I think I see him shoot past and wearing little if anything, which make me wonder just how he answered the door....
I open the door and find my other co-worker. She is a bit confused at why the door had been shut on her, but I let her in and we talk for a bit. After about 15 minutes, Chris can't hold out any longer, and comes out dressed in his matching set of pajamas. And then we see saw him...except there was something a bit different....he was the exact color of a beet--it practically hurt us just to look at him, and partially hurt not to laugh.
Turns out Chris decided I didn't know what I was talking about and went to the tanning bed and stayed in for 15 minutes. He later said it hurt him to even wear clothes...I guess that explains why he didn't invite the coworker in....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)