"I'm nervous -- Are you nervous?" The class just stared back, I felt like the car about to hit the deer. The deer sure is surprised and the car is destroyed.
Pictures, I know I have some pictures on the next slide. That should help, there is still a chance to save this deer. "What do you know about me from these pictures?"
"You're married!" shouts a few students.
"Almost," I say.
"Engaged to be married then."
"Yep, I will marry Brooke on February 18th."
"Wow, that is right around the corner."
"That's right. The next time you see me, I will be married!"
Smiles broke out around the classroom. "Ok," I think. "I can do this." And I did.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Long Time No Write
It has been a long time since I have written to this blog. I guess wedding plans have taken the cake time-wise.
Speaking of cake, we are going to have the best of all worlds. A carrot cake layer for the ground level, German chocolate for the second floor and the third is to be lemon ma-range. Mmmmmmm. The other day, Brooke's aunt who is helping to make the cake brought over a sample of the chocolate cake and I died, went to heaven, and came back for more.
I must be on a cake kick because of the strawberry pie Brooke's grandmother made; I tried it today and fell in love. I must be hungry to be talking about all of this food.
Speaking of cake, we are going to have the best of all worlds. A carrot cake layer for the ground level, German chocolate for the second floor and the third is to be lemon ma-range. Mmmmmmm. The other day, Brooke's aunt who is helping to make the cake brought over a sample of the chocolate cake and I died, went to heaven, and came back for more.
I must be on a cake kick because of the strawberry pie Brooke's grandmother made; I tried it today and fell in love. I must be hungry to be talking about all of this food.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Shotokai
For the past few weeks I have been busy with wedding planning and homework. I have been unable to do some things that I really enjoy, Shotokai Karate being one of them.
Finally, last night, I was able to attend practice. My muscles ached, protesting the now unfamiliar strain. My mind careened every now and again; not used to the mental exertions. My excitement grew as the time passed. Pain came, pain left. The joy of focus remained.
Finally, last night, I was able to attend practice. My muscles ached, protesting the now unfamiliar strain. My mind careened every now and again; not used to the mental exertions. My excitement grew as the time passed. Pain came, pain left. The joy of focus remained.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
"My car won't start. Can you come pick me up?"
"Of course I will pick you up," I think as I walk down the south hill for BYU. "You are my Fiancé." My car waits, now the only means of transport for a school teacher and a BYU student. When I arrive at the scene there is a fellow teacher helping Brooke trouble shoot the engine. We decide that the problem must be the battery. A quick battery test validates our fears.
"A trickle charge should do it," claims the mechanic. "As long as the battery is still good." It isn't.
I hook up a new battery gleaming with black promise. I tell Brooke to turn the key.
Nothing.
She tries again. Again, nothing.
Did I hook it up wrong? Is there another problem? I don't know. I call my dad and he agrees to come out. After he arrives I can tell he is getting frustrated with the situation. I had hooked everything up right and nothing else seemed to be amiss.
"Let's tow it to a mechanic," suggests dad. "I've got some climbing rope we can use."
As I stepped into the car being towed, I felt time slip away. I was in Wyoming again and was helping my dad tow a truck, a tractor, a war member's car. I had to focus on keeping the line taunt with out causing the truck to break unnecessarily. Time found me contemplating nothing important and everything at the same time. Finally, the transcendental moment passed and I found myself discussing my fiance's car with the mechanic.
"Of course I will pick you up," I think as I walk down the south hill for BYU. "You are my Fiancé." My car waits, now the only means of transport for a school teacher and a BYU student. When I arrive at the scene there is a fellow teacher helping Brooke trouble shoot the engine. We decide that the problem must be the battery. A quick battery test validates our fears.
"A trickle charge should do it," claims the mechanic. "As long as the battery is still good." It isn't.
I hook up a new battery gleaming with black promise. I tell Brooke to turn the key.
Nothing.
She tries again. Again, nothing.
Did I hook it up wrong? Is there another problem? I don't know. I call my dad and he agrees to come out. After he arrives I can tell he is getting frustrated with the situation. I had hooked everything up right and nothing else seemed to be amiss.
"Let's tow it to a mechanic," suggests dad. "I've got some climbing rope we can use."
As I stepped into the car being towed, I felt time slip away. I was in Wyoming again and was helping my dad tow a truck, a tractor, a war member's car. I had to focus on keeping the line taunt with out causing the truck to break unnecessarily. Time found me contemplating nothing important and everything at the same time. Finally, the transcendental moment passed and I found myself discussing my fiance's car with the mechanic.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Jamba, Anyone?
On my way to the Center for Service and Learning I ordered a Mango-go-a-go, then entered the office. I would come back out in five and get my drink. My phone vibrates.
I read the text from my mother. I feel as if a mountain sits on my shoulders. The text reminds me that I need to send her the information of how many people will be at the lunchin for my wedding and where the lunch will be held. I know she is helping me out but it reminds me of the discussion I had with my future mother-in-law the other day where we discovered that maybe a lunchin would be too much on the day of the wedding. These memories only enhance my agitation.
I read the text from my mother. I feel as if a mountain sits on my shoulders. The text reminds me that I need to send her the information of how many people will be at the lunchin for my wedding and where the lunch will be held. I know she is helping me out but it reminds me of the discussion I had with my future mother-in-law the other day where we discovered that maybe a lunchin would be too much on the day of the wedding. These memories only enhance my agitation.
I call my mom.
A minute into the conversation and I feel more than agitated. I am stressed beyond control. I ask her to just let me speak. I explain the concerns as best as possible and wait.
“Let’s not do it then.” But we need to do something….
“We can do a dinner the night before for immediate family only.” Should we? What about the people that come to the sealing, shouldn’t we provide lunch for them? I stammer my thoughts.
“They will just have to fend for themselves.” It breaks tradition, will people be insulted? Yet, I cannot deny that the idea brings the breath of relief to me as I hang up the phone and begin to think about which homework assignment to attack first. It has been twenty minutes. As I adjust my computer scree, I remember that my Jamba was waiting for me outside.
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