Photobooth Memories

 If there is one thing I cannot help collecting, it is books, including blank books. Each fresh page is a story waiting to be told, fraught with possibility. 

Thanks to my mom, who bought me my first pretty red journal and sat me down to write in it every Sunday, I've been journaling since I was barely able to form letters; scrawling long, tortuously detailed and emotional journal entries was my therapy during my teenage and young adult years. This love of writing and journaling compels me to collect blank books when I find them at a good price, even if I don't have an immediate purpose for them.

Today I decided to inventory how many blank books I actually own, seeing as how I've been making blank books from scratch in the last couple weeks. Turns out I have a lot of blank books. I could never buy or make another blank book again and still be set for life. 

In the process of sorting through my bookshelves, I also unearthed some old photos from my college days, including some silly photobooth photos taken with my roommate during the time we went to BYU--probably during our freshman year. I decided to scan them, and I'll send the relevant ones to Erin, who is the beautiful redhead in the photos (not that you can tell in these black-and-white photos, but she does have lovely red, naturally curly hair. I am a brunette, and our other best friend was a blonde, so we felt that made us a well-rounded group). 

Weren't we so young and cute in 1991? My natural eyebrows almost make up for my stupidity at that age.

Despite a few rough patches along the way, Erin and I were good friends from the moment we met, and we roomed together as long as I was at college. We still keep in touch, and she sends me a Christmas card every year. She majored in statistics (have you ever tried statistical math? She has beauty and brains!), served a mission in Brazil, and then got an excellent job with the government, which has allowed her and her husband and cute kids to live in countries all over the world as her job requires. 

I did find one more strip of photobooth photos, this one taken with a friend and co-worker, Matt. Erin and I and Matt (among many others) worked together at a family camp in the mountains during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college. Matt and I didn't date (he had a girlfriend at home), but we hung out together a lot. We had to, really, since the entire staff lived at the camp full-time during the week and we were each others' social lives on weekends unless you had a home to go to in the valley, which I didn't. I worked on the maintenance crew, Erin worked in the gift shop/store, and Matt was a food server. 

I vaguely remember that I needed a passport-size photo, which is why I'm sitting by myself in the last photo. Can't remember what that photo was for, but I'm glad I have this memory. I might have been young and stupid at this age, but to make things worse, I was also a flirt. Poor Matt. 

Matt was such an adorable goof. Sadly, once he left on his mission, we lost touch, and I have absolutely no idea how his story has turned out. I hope it has been a happy one.

That reminds me that I also got to be good friends with Matt's best friend, Gage, who often came up to the camp to pick Matt up on the weekend. A group of us would often pile into Gage's car and go play in the valley on a Saturday evening. 

Gage and Matt were both a couple years younger than me, and that two-year gap was how Gage and I ended up in the MTC at the same time, though I left for England before he left the MTC. We wrote back and forth for a while during our missions but also, ultimately, lost touch. That most likely happened when I met my future husband and didn't feel right about writing other boys.

The inscription on the back reads "On a temple day. Don't you miss it?"

It's hard to tell from this picture, but Gage, like Matt, was a good-looking kid. 

Anyway, I've bored you long enough with my rambling memories of yesteryear. Thanks, as always, for being game enough to come along. Sometimes, after I've looked at old photos and remembered the stories behind them, I'm surprised to look in the mirror and see a doughy middle-aged woman. I wouldn't give up the happy, amazing life I've had or the things I've learned, however, even if it meant I could be young and cute again. Well, wait just a minute now. I might give up some lessons learned in order to get that young, effortlessly slim, energetic body back, but I promise I would use it only for good. Like deep cleaning. Or yard work. Shopping for cute clothes. You know, productive stuff. 

Spring Break Activities: Nothing Remotely Productive

My Spring Break was exactly the restful vacation I needed because I ignored the persistent and nagging little voice in my head that kept telling me that I should do only productive things all week. Like deep cleaning. Or yard work. 

Fie on productivity!

For instance, I read the first three books in Will Wight's ten-book Cradle series. Good fiction is like a drug to me so I only allow myself to read fiction when I have no deadlines pressing. I am helpless in the face of a great story and will forsake all else once I dive into it. Wight's books were so immediately engrossing that I knew I was in trouble; but with no major events for which I had to prepare, I quit worrying and just read as much as I wanted.

I also played a lot of Bach on the piano. Johann Sebastian, you minx, you have my heart and my fingers twisted into knots.

And then I tried my hand at my next bookbinding project. 

This attempt was an improvement on my last one. 

I bought a pack of three mini composition books from the dollar store $1.25 store, glued the covers together, and used them as my text block. This sped up the process because I didn't have to create signatures and sew them together, though I will do that again soon in another project. That is a skill that I want to improve on.

Because I wanted this little journal to open flat for easy writing, I didn't want to put a stiff spine into it. Instead, I used a piece of cotton cloth glued to the spines of the glued-together composition books to provide strength but no stiffness. 

Before gluing on the cloth, I glued a little ribbon to the spine to use as a bookmark.

I cut out the cover boards (which I wrapped in a geometric kraft paper) to the exact dimensions of the composition book covers so that they would not get in the way of the book opening flat. 

I even inserted pretty cover papers at the beginning and end of the book to make things nice and neat.

I'm really pleased with how this one turned out and I had a lot of fun making it. 

On Wednesday, the young men and young women in our ward got to go to the temple construction site and have a little presentation by the temple missionaries. We got to see the site map, the room layouts, and ask questions before trotting over to the construction site. The missionary couple in charge of publicity, who are from Simi Valley, California, did an excellent job, and as they shared a couple personal stories about how temples have blessed their own lives, the Spirit grew very strong. I had a tender moment as I received some very personal answers to some questions I had had about other things. Funny how even when a temple is still only a metal support structure and how, though we were sitting in a single-wide trailer on the site having this discussion, one can still feel the Spirit so strongly. I am very grateful for that experience.

The temple will, all things going optimally, be finished early in 2024. I am so excited to have a temple five minutes from my house!

There will be a copper spire that will add 30 more feet in height on the top, but no Angel Moroni blowing his trumpet, as was traditional on so many of the earlier temples.

Tonight I had choir rehearsal. Last week, both the regular accompanist and the back-up accompanist couldn't be there, so I was asked to play for rehearsal. I'm not saying I'm nearly as good as the accompanists, but I held my own for a rehearsal. As it was solo tryouts last week, I stayed a little late and helped out on the piano for those, too, but I had absolutely no intention of auditioning myself. I haven't auditioned for a solo in years because I am surrounded by much better soloists. I'm a good member of the choir, blending in with my alto part, but I don't have the voice or breath technique for solo singing. I would love to have the voice of an angel, but I accept that I do not. 

Anyway, I walked into the rehearsal room this week, and Denise immediately pulled me aside.

"I've decided you will be singing this with Dallyn [the best tenor, who does have a lovely solo voice]." She showed me what part she meant, which is the higher (alto) solo part at the beginning of "Mangisondele Nkosi Yam." 

I was taken aback as I had not auditioned for any of the solo parts. Like I said, I know my limits in that regard.

"Why?" I blurted out.

"Why?" she laughed. "Because I need someone with a rich alto sound and round vowels."

Okay, so Denise has lost it. Fortunately, however, the solo part is not long or particularly exposed, so I will do my best. I sing that solo part up until the "amen, amen" section, when two other soloists (thankfully) take over.

If you want to hear the piece, it's below. 

(We are not doing all the fun jungle noises at the beginning, but I really like this recording of the song, which is the Swahili version of the hymn "Nearer, My God, to Thee." 

Miscellanies

I've made a thing!

After watching numerous YouTube videos from people who make it look easy, I attempted my own handmade book. 

I used regular printer paper to make the signatures, which I sewed together using a French Link stitch.

Then I measured and cut out some chipboard to use for the covers and spine, which I covered with light cardstock before glueing in the signature and the end papers. I didn't think to take any pictures of those steps as I was not making a how-to post because I really don't know what I'm doing.

As far as handmade books go, it's pretty terrible. The cut edges of the paper aren't entirely even, the sewing was sloppily done, and the book doesn't open flat for ease of writing (I made the wrong style of spine for it to lie flat), but you gotta start somewhere, no? And I had fun making it, which was the whole point. 

It's Spring Break this week, so in addition to trying to make handmade books, I'm playing the piano anytime I please, and I'm not setting my alarm in the mornings. I'm playing with fire. By the time I go back to work, my sleeping schedule will be off and I'll have a dozen more projects finished only halfway to add to the unfinished projects currently taking up space. 

Speaking of work (which I wasn't because I'm not going to work this week), I received a text from Skyler this morning with this cartoon, which made me chuckle. Skyler often takes me up on my offer to edit faculty members' college papers, and we occasionally geek out on grammar. 

Considering that Skyler took the week off for a little vacation with his wife to San Diego, I appreciate that he took the time to make me laugh today. 

Speaking of things that make me laugh, my son, Joseph, has been trying--with mixed results--to educate me on Gen Z humor as explained through memes. I lack the knowledge of the complex layers of humor behind most of the current memery, but this one I found particularly hilarious:

I'm going to go play the piano. See ya.

Turmeric Dreams and Family News

Husband and I have been taking turmeric capsules every night for some weeks, and we both noticed that turmeric seems to bring on very vivid dreams. Last night, for instance, I dreamed that I had a lovely large kitchen with acres of counter space. Unfortunately, all the counters were covered in stacks and stacks of dirty dishes. When my alarm went off this morning, I was running along beside the counters, horrified that my huge kitchen was so dirty and frustrated that no one was willing to help me clean it. 

Photo: Wallace Chuck, Pexels free-use images

I'm sure that has very deep psychological meaning, but I'm just too tired to figure it out. Thanks, Daylight Saving Time! 

The good news is that I'll get to ruminate on my weird dreams a little more for the next week as we head into Spring Break, which I am using to recover from losing an hour of sleep last Sunday. I'm very excited about not having to set my alarm.

In more interesting news, Little Gary just landed his first job. He is a student sweeper at the elementary school he attended, which is exciting both for the financial aspect and also for the nostalgia he has for his elementary school. "If I had known how great elementary school really was, I wouldn't have been so excited to go to junior high," he frequently laments. All of us were horribly shocked and stunned by junior high, kid. I'm sure the nostalgia will wear off as he spends hours vacuuming and sweeping the rooms and hallways that suddenly seem so much smaller than they used to be, but having a steady stream of income will make up for that and the weird building smell he never noticed before.

He had to fill out an application and go through an interview (for which his sister, Sophia, kindly helped him practice; but which--happily, I guess--ended up lasting exactly three minutes and did not include any of the questions Sophia helped him with). His best friend also applied, as there were two student sweeper positions available, but the best friend was sadly only hired as a substitute. I'm hoping there are no lasting resentments that arise from this situation. 

I am going to drop the "Little" from Gary's name. When I started calling him that in this blog, he was, indeed, little. He's almost taller than I am now, and he shot up over three inches in the last six months alone. Keeping him outfitted with trousers that are both long enough for his legs and skinny enough for his waist is a constant struggle. At nearly 15, he's also got a shadow of a mustache and argues with me a lot less when I insist he bathe regularly.

Joseph, my 17-year-old, finally got his drivers license and now I can send him on all the errands I don't want to run. Joseph has a Saturday job at the local bakery, but now he can get himself to work early in the morning. Yay! 

My second daughter, Gabrielle, and her husband, Raine, will be moving from their condo into a town home a couple doors down from my oldest daughter, Siân, and her husband and kids. Their rent will be lower, they will have a lot more room, and Gabrielle thinks she can start planning on getting pregnant with their first child. She has an excellent job with Adobe, and Raine has an Army scholarship that is paying for his schooling, so they're doing fine for money. Siân and Nathan and Gabrielle and Raine love getting together (Siân and Gabrielle have always been very close), so living near each other will be a huge blessing for all of them, and I'm very happy that my grandsons will have a close relationship with their aunty and uncle.

Joseph is cooking dinner tonight. He asked if he could, which is thrilling. He had a stew recipe he wanted to try, and he just got back from the grocery store, where he went to pick up a loaf of good bread to go with the stew (the bakery he works at only serves doughnuts and bagels). The last time he cooked us dinner, it was excellent. I'm so excited to not have to make dinner and yet enjoy a delicious home-cooked meal. Now, if I could only get more willing help when it came to dishes!

Adorably Clueless

 In my new capacity as one of the Young Women leaders, I attend the youth Sunday School class. It's good because I can attend with my youngest son, who sometimes needs some kicking in the butt encouragement to go to his class. We accidentally went to the younger class yesterday, which has kids from 11-14, but I wasn't about to let him out of the classroom at that point, having managed to get him in.

The lesson was on the story of Joseph of Egypt. I was sitting next to one of my favorite young women, a very bright girl of twelve whose family obviously spends a lot of time learning and discussing the scriptures. The teacher asked someone to talk about what happened to Joseph in Potiphar's house, and she raised her hand and said, "Well, I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but I think Potiphar's wife was jealous that Potiphar and Joseph were good friends, and she tried to lie about him, and that made Potiphar angry, and he sent Joseph to prison." 

The teacher and I exchanged a glance during which each of us fought very hard to keep straight faces. There was also the very real temptation to exclaim, "You are so adorable!" to this adorable child.

"...Yes, Potiphar's wife was very angry with Joseph, that is correct," the teacher finally said, his lips twitching slightly. When none of the other equally clueless young kids raised their hands to offer the more adult explanation as to the reason Potiphar's wife was angry with Joseph, he said, "Let's talk about Joseph's time in the prison," and moved on. 

Sometimes you want them to never grow up and face the harsh realities of adulthood.  

Reflections

One of the most satisfying aspects of my job is the interaction I have with the students. 

This year, the kids suddenly saw me. They didn't see me very clearly last year--as if I was constantly under a cloak of invisibility even when I was attempting to interact with them--but this year I am suddenly visible to them, and I've made a huge effort to learn their names (as I have almost 700 names to put to faces, I'm still working on that). I have a whole little crowd of students who come and talk to me every day, a few of whom have used me as a bit of a sounding board/therapist on gospel topics or about life situations. I really enjoy their bright smiles and personalities, and I very much value the trust they have placed in me as an adult to whom they can share their thoughts and worries (though I always encourage them to talk to their parents as well). 

Obviously, when dealing with the students, I and the faculty are extremely careful to keep everything above-board. No teacher is ever left alone in the building with a student or students, and office doors are usually kept open; if a student needs some privacy during a discussion, the office doors all have windows that are kept clear and uncovered. Some of the students rely on the teachers as trusted counselors as they navigate depression and anxiety, questions or concerns about Church doctrine and policies, family dysfunction, and general teenage angst. Some of them just love chatting with their favorite teachers about anything and everything, and each of the faculty members is so good at the easy camaraderie that makes teens feel like they have a friend. Laughter is one of the most common sounds that I hear in the building's hallways and drifting out from offices.

A kid told me the other day that he had been told by an older sibling that one of the teachers, Skyler, has a fan page on Instagram. That didn't surprise me. Skyler is a dynamic teacher and very popular with the students. He is also good-looking and looks younger than he is (which is not even 30 yet), and all this causes some quiet swooning amongst the female students from time to time. Of course I wanted to see that page so I could tease Skyler about it, so I resurrected my Instagram account that I haven't used since my content writing days years ago, when I sometimes needed Instagram to do research, and looked for it. Alas, I couldn't find the one the student was talking about (it's probably since been taken down), but I did find a page dedicated to our seminary that some past student had used to create his own memes with seminary and church themes. They are innocent, clean memes, and a few of them made me laugh. 

(For the record, Skyler, while aware of his occasional effect on the girl students, is entirely pragmatic about it, his head unturned and his soul incorruptible. His wife is a knockout anyway. She was in the building a couple weeks ago and I looked right past her while I bustled into my office to finish a task. It wasn't until she came up to my window that I suddenly realized who she was. "Oh, hi!" I exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were a student!" According to Skyler, that made her day.)

Just as senior students are graduating and leaving high school and the seminary, the members of my faculty will be changing come next school year. Skyler has decided to pursue an MBA (which will be in addition to his current Masters degree and his PhD, for which he is finishing his thesis) and leave the religious education career behind. He's moving his gorgeous wife and their adorable kids to another state so he can attend school and will, by my prediction, become as wildly successful in business as he is as a religious educator--and far more wealthy. Kim, who mistakenly thinks I'm hilarious, might be offered a regional position working with the adaptive/special needs aspect of Church religious education. Ryan will be retiring in the next few years, though I think he does plan to stay at our seminary until then. Griff seems to have an itch to take a coordinator position somewhere else in the country. Tanner seems content to stay put, thank goodness. 

Changes are also coming in the Seminaries & Institutes Department of the Church, so I think I will be seeing a lot more of the things people thought were pretty permanent in this industry become more fluid. It will be interesting. But the students will always be the number one priority.