Brigham City temple

(or finally a post with some pictures..)

We visited the Brigham City temple last Friday. There were lots of people there that day, so we didn’t get as many picture as I would’ve liked. It’s beautiful, though. I asked Tyson if we could get married again just so we could get married there. He said no.

This is a mosaic that was made by the youth. It made my eyes teary. 

We asked one of the ushers to take a picture of us in front of the temple doors. My shoes got cut off, so it looks like I’m barefoot, but I promise I was wearing shoes despite being on holy ground.

We all received a pamphlet before we went into the temple, and I really liked something it said,

“At one time or another, most of us have wondered about the purposes of life. Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here on earth? Where are we going after this life over?

In the temple, we receive answers to these profound questions.”

I love going to the temple. Being there that day reminded me of another temple open house years ago. And that made my eyes really teary. I’ll tell you why later.



On the eve of my twenty-second birthday, I cried. This wasn’t the type of crying where you shed a few tears and then quickly wipe them away. This was full-on ugly, “mine eyes water my pillow at night” crying. I felt so unconsolably pathetic as poor Tyson patted me on the back and said, “It’s okay, don’t cry.” That didn’t help very much. He asked, “Is this because you feel like you’re twenty-two and you haven’t done anything with your life?” No, but thanks…*

I was crying because this was my first birthday as a married woman, my first birthday living in Utah, my first birthday really far away from most of my family and friends. I felt so alone, even though I knew that I wasn’t.

I finally stopped crying and went to sleep. I woke up to texts and wall posts from people who loved me and who remembered me, even though I was far away from them. All day, my phone rang with people who were glad that I was born twenty-two years ago. Packages, cards, and letters came in the mail– gifts from my friends and family.

I’d been dreading my birthday all week because I was afraid that people would forget about me and that I would feel alone that day. All day, however, I kept getting little reminders of what I sometimes doubt:

You are not alone, and you are not forgotten.

Thank you. The biggest thank you of all should really go to my mom for giving birth to me, or picking up the basket with baby me inside of it from her doorstep, as the story goes. The second biggest thank you goes to my husband for treating me like a princess all day. And the third biggest thank you goes to all of my friends and family who texted, called, facebooked, myspaced, carrier pigeoned, smoke signaled, telegraphed, e-mailed, snail mailed, etc. to wish me a happy birthday. Thank you for thinking that I’m special. You all make me feel like the luckiest twenty-two year old in the world.

*Editor’s Note: When Tyson read this entry, he said that I’d misquoted him, so he asked if I could make an editor’s note and correct it. What he actually said was, “Is this because you’re twenty-two, and you think you haven’t done anything with your life?”

an ode to school supplies

Tyson’s first day of school was yesterday. I had a job interview in Syracuse yesterday, and since Tyson would be at school, I had to go by myself. I fluctuated between singing along to our road trip playlist and crying on my way down. To get from Logan to anywhere below Logan, you have to cross a scary canyon that always makes me nervous even when I’m not the one driving. I got there safely, even though I was lost in Syracuse for about half an hour. Thanks a lot, Google Maps, for leading me astray.

After my interview, I was only a few miles away from Target, so of course I had to stop by. I stocked up on some things that we needed around the house, and then I ventured over to the school supply area by myself. 

Now, let me tell you about one of my vices. I have a school supply addiction. I own way too many pens, notebooks, markers, sticky notes, anything that could possibly help you on your way to scholastic achievement. But I will never have enough. There is no voice of reason in my head for anything that can be used to write or be written on. I want everything and in every color.

The worst part is that I don’t even go to school anymore, so I really had no business being in that area of Target. I practiced some restraint and only got some tape, index cards, and markers (you know, for Tyson!). I picked up a 24 pack of gels pens, then figured Tyson didn’t need them for school, so I wept quietly and put them back.

I got some Mountain Dew and fruit snacks for Tyson in hopes that he wouldn’t notice that those markers were actually for me. (He did. What college student still uses markers?)

Here’s to a new school year!

this one’s about the weather

Tyson and I experienced our first Logan thunderstorm last night. We were in bed, avoiding the end of summer vacation, when we thought we saw lightning.

“Was that lightning?” I asked.
“No,” he said.

Then there was thunder.

“Was that thunder?” I asked.
“No,” he said, “Probably just the wind.”

(Silly Californians.)

Then there was lightning so bright that we could both see it through our eyelids. We turned to face the window and watched as the rain started coming down.

“Is it raining?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “That’s definitely rain.”

We watched the storm for some time. We counted mississippis, even though neither of us was sure about the amount of distance that a second actually covered. I thought a mississippi was a foot; he thought every seven mississippis was a mile. He was probably right.

Just when we thought that the storm was moving past us, there was a lightning bolt that looked like a big purple vein that flashed across the sky. In that moment, I felt so small. I pictured our little apartment as a ship at sea, being tossed by the waves in the storm.

I thought about the Savior and His disciples at sea. As the storm gets worse, Christ is asleep on the ship. His disciples are afraid, and they ask,

“Master, carest thou not that we perish?

And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”

(Mark 4:38-39)

Eventually, the storm passed. This morning, you couldn’t even tell that there had been a storm the night before. But I knew.

I knew as I kissed my husband goodbye for his first day of school. I felt so small, alone in our apartment for maybe the third time since we’ve moved here. But I wasn’t afraid. My Savior speaks peace unto my heart like he speaks peace unto the sea.

And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

last week of vacation

Since Tyson starts school next week, we’ve been trying to take advantage of his last few days of vacation. In the past month that we’ve been in Utah, we haven’t really done as much exploring of the city as we would have liked. Some days, it would be so hot, and we would be so lazy, that we would just stay in our apartment all day. This week, however, we were all over our little corner of Utah like it was our last week here. Tyson’s the photographer in our family, so please excuse these bad quality cellphone pictures.

Here’s a picture of Tyson eating a Fat Boy ice cream sandwich at the Logan Aquatic Center, where our stake had a swim party last night. We got there when the sun was starting to go down, so the water was getting cold. I asked Tyson if that’s how cold it was going to be during the winter, and he laughed at me. That’s a no, right?

Here’s a picture of Tyson at the Aggie Creamery that’s within walking distance from our apartment, which is dangerous, because it’s so good. We toured their facilities a few weeks ago to find out how their ice cream was made, and I thought that that would cure us of our ice cream cravings. We went to the creamery twice this week, so clearly that didn’t work.

Here’s a picture of Tyson at the brand new Brigham City temple. We were able to attend the temple open house yesterday afternoon, and it’s beautiful inside. I can’t wait to go back.
It’s been a good week, and a great summer. I’m a little sad that Tyson’s starting school because it’s been so fun to just have him around all the time. It’s made our apartment feel like home to me, which I didn’t think was possible when we first moved in. We’d both lived in California for so long, that I worried that we would never adjust to living in Utah. But now that we’re here, I realize that any place can be home as long as we’re together.