gutter-fishing

Yesterday I drove to St. George for groceries. In the world I grew up in, you drive 7 minutes down the road to the store and get what you need when you need it. You don't devise a list all week and then embark on an hour long drive involving a cooler and ice packs so you can keep your milk and chicken cold in a city that is usually 5-10 degrees hotter than Zion... which is just draining. Grocery shopping wears me out. And it's been so dry and hot here that I was dreading spending an hour or two in a place that was even drier and hotter.

On my way through Rockville, UT, I saw a boy sitting in the gutter with a fishing pole. And as I watched, something tugged and he excitedly rolled back on his back and reeled whatever it was in. I thought there can't be any water in there... He might have caught a tire.

I got to St. George and on the horizon a long stretch of red dust cloud was growing and moving closer. It looked like an ocean wave far off in the distance or a scene from the Sahara with the heat waves lifting off the ground, making the whole thing look like a mirage. A storm was coming. I rushed all my errands so I could get back to Zion in time to catch the waterfalls that appear off the rims of the cliffs when it storms. But as I frantically drove back, I realized I had missed it. The street through Rockville was full of puddles and the gutter where the boy was fishing was now a river full of red mud.

The canyon had grown more colorful when I was gone. It literally takes on more color as the red rocks are saturated and the desert varnish becomes shiny and a thing called Resurrection Moss comes to life and expands and turns bright green on the cliffs. Oak Creek, which is usually a dried up stream-bed behind my house, had erupted into life and red-brown water was roaring through my backyard.

When it rains in the desert, something almost spiritual takes place. The plants and sandstone graciously accept the drink and rivers and waterfalls come out of nowhere. This morning it rained again and I got out of bed and stood outside to watch Oak Creek flash again. I came back in and opened the doors and windows to let the breeze and new smells come in and I fell back asleep with wet hair. The rain seeped into my dry skin and hair as I lay on the couch and the lightning kept sending flashes across my eyelids.

I felt cleaned and decided I didn't need a shower today.

Aaahh! It's beautiful! I'm looking out the window at the library at the West Temple. The sun finally came out and the sky is blue again. Someone just came in and I heard them say to the librarian "Don't you just love this? Everything has been washed clean."

an update on updating...

That amazing internet signal I miraculously picked up at my home is no more. And I rarely feel like coming to town after work to update my blog...

so, just an update. I probably won't be updating much these days. If I remember at some point, i will bring my camara cord to town to post some of the amazing pictures I've taken the past few months here. Seasons have definitely changed since those last pics I put up. It's been so hot here and I've heard myself say things I never thought I'd ever say... "aah, shade." "Yay! It only got up to 98 today!" "Let's turn on the swamp cooler so we can wear sweatshirts." "Is that a cloud I see over there?!?"

I thought I was a total desert rat. But apparently, I do miss clouds and rain and sweatshirts. Went home for my friend Jamie's wedding last month and Ohio looked like a jungle with all the green. I hadn't seen an Ohio summer for three years. It was beautiful.

I've seen

I have been horrible at updating. I have been worthless at emails and phonecalls. I have been lazy about journaling. My wireless internet at my house has left as mysteriously as it arrived. It returns occasionally but while I'm here at the library, I'll try to do a quick update.

In the past few weeks, I've seen

... a Bobcat! It ran right in front of my car as I was driving up the switchbacks to work one morning. It was larger than I thought they were supposed to be but I don't remember a tail so it must not have been a mountain lion.

... Desert Bighorn sheep just playing around on the East side of the park.

... a tree fall. I heard popping noises like firecrackers near my house on Oak Creek and then I saw the treetop of a cottonwood tree go down and heard the big bang.

... a mountainside ignite on fire. We don't have "mountains" here but that just sounds more dramatic. For the fourth of July, Springdale had a firework show but it had to be cut short because a firework ignited the whole hillside on fire. I heard rumors of it burning over 20 acres but who knows if that's true. The west temple rock formation was behind the fire and the whole red rock wall glowed as if a spotlight were on it! The crazy tour-ons evacuated and the rest of us just sat and watched it burn.

... a California Condor! She was just perched on a ledge at the Grand Canyon North Rim. Occassionaly she'd stretch out her 10 ft long wingspan just to show off.

... children teaching their parents about the Condor and how once there were only a couple dozen alive on Earth. On a sappy note, I got all teary eyed watching this because I remembered these are the kids who will be protecting this land one day.

to own Color

I remember going to the ring shop with my mom when I was little to get her wedding ring fixed. I remember realizing this was an important mission for her and I remember a quick moment of concern when she took off her wedding ring and handed it to the man at the shop and I thought something was wrong with my parent’s marriage. I remember going back to the ring shop with her to pick it up.

I remember the color emerald green.

She had it on her ring. She wore it in her clothes. She wore it in her big square earrings that went out of style way before she quit wearing them. But I never liked the color emerald green. My favorite color when I was little was white, until I was told that didn’t count. But white was clean and pretty and I thought it was the most beautiful color of all.

I saw something that was an emerald green today and I thought, ooh how pretty! And then I wondered, when did that switch occur?

I live in Color Country. That’s what they sometimes call it. Every color you can imagine can be found in the rocks or dirt or trees or wildflowers around here. When the Virgin River swells and curves, there are parts where you can’t even reach the bottom and you can tell because that part of the river turns a brilliant shade of emerald green. It sparkles like my mom’s ring. It’s beautiful.

We used to travel through Navajo nation on vacation through Arizona and we’d stop at the Navajo road-side stands and mom and I’d buy jewelry. I resented that they used so much turquoise because I didn’t like turquoise so I bought necklaces with juniper beads because they were brown instead. When my granddad died we each received something from his jewelry collection. My granddad loved turquoise. I have one of his turquoise rings from the Navajo and I turned it into a bracelet and it’s my favorite piece of jewelry. I never appreciated turquoise until then. Now it’s one of my favorite colors and there’s no better match than turquoise next to dusty brown skin.

I can’t imagine my life if I hadn’t taken the risks I’ve taken and gone the places I’ve gone. I wonder if my favorite color would still be white. It seems with each new adventure I add another color to my pallet and my world is already overwhelmingly colorful. Sometimes we can argue on whether a car is green or blue and assume the other person is color-blind. But the truth is, we’ve only seen color through our own lens and I don’t think we ever are seeing the same thing. Color is more powerful than just a label. With each passing experience, we own colors. We connect thoughts and memories and scents to them. And we’ll never see eye to eye and I think that’s beautiful.

happiness

I made cinnamon Indian Frybread tonight and it was easier than grilled cheese.

I couldn't be more content.

when Laura came to town

The past couple weeks, some strange things were happening in the park. Suddenly there were lots of local law enforcement coming in and out. And then there were these guys hanging out by park headquarters always rolling suitecases behind them, wearing bermuda shorts and hawaiian shirts, who smiled and waved as if they knew the place and knew exactly who you were. They dressed like tourists but they were so obviously not. Then we finally were told the big secret... Laura Bush was coming to the park. Secret service had been in and out, making preparations, for the past couple weeks atleast.

I so happened to be working the entrance station where she was scheduled to arrive. And she came, blew through my outbound lane in a convoy of toyota minivans. And that was it. Not too much excitement. But then, we were told to watch out for sketchy people. And I had this girl come through, with a slight tone of possible bitterness in her voice, she said, "You know why I'm here. There will probably be more like me." Totally just sounds like a groupee, or a fan, or wacky stalker type... not anything really dangerous. But I called her in anyway, mostly cause of the tone of her voice. Next thing I know, she had pulled into the private event and law enforcement quickly was on her. She played dumb tourist and asked where the shuttle was. Today I came into work and someone told me that she ended up on the news and turned out to be a Bush supporter. Why in the word the media jumped on this one, I have no clue.

Apparently Laura stuck around a couple days. Some people protested and though the thought of war makes me sick too, they make me sicker because they can't separate a good issue from a bad. She was in town to rededicate our nature center and I think it's good to just focus on that. My friend Lex says you can't be a dark cloud every day.

I liked that.

I amaze myself

Just when I thought that taking some extra vitamins was keeping my mind pretty straight, I do this. I was craving cinnamon...

I had an extra tube of crescent rolls in the fridge and got out my cinnamon and butter and found a random bag of white powder in the cupboard which I assumed was sugar. I spread the sugar and cinnamon all over the dough and rolled them up all cute and popped them in the oven...

I sat and salivated...

I couldn't wait for the rolls to cool off, I popped one into my mouth. Something tasted funny, but I couldn't figure it out. It kind of made me feel sick. I figured I should try another just to investigate this further. I gobbled down the second one, but really kind of hating it. Then, I couldn't believe it. I had a whole bunch of cinnamon rolls sitting there just begging to be eaten and I didn't think I could handle another one. They were making me kind of sick.

I looked over my ingredients again. I figured it was the butter I used. Must have been bad butter. For some reason, I kept overlooking the suspicious bag of white powder. Finally, after checking out the butter, my eyes fell on the white stuff. I stuck my tongue into the bag to taste it, expecting one great sugar rush.

Salt.

I had to do one of those hurry and rub your tongue to get all that crap off kind of gestures like my dad did when he accidently ate a dog breath mint.

the greatest

I walked along surrounded by the cathedral of cliffs and suddenly the pine shot off into the sky. I looked up and asked which was greatest.

...then I knew, it was the three of us, together, in this place.

them there five-foot tumbleweeds

Today I was crossing a small creek as I was walking back from work and under the bridge was the most gigantic, mindblowing tumbleweed you could ever imagine. I mean, it was so big that it felt like a joke… like someone had hidden it here with a camara to watch how people reacted to it. It reminded me of those British comedy skits where the guy pulls out the four-foot long phone in public and tries to talk on it.

I started laughing as I lifted it up with my shoe to see how big it really was. I swear it was like five feet across. One giant tumbleweed. Well, as I lifted it to see it, the wind caught hold of it and it took off.

I heard it yell “Praise Jesus, I’m healed” as it leapt into the air and sped off ahead of me. It ran toward my home and I was trailing behind it laughing, hoping it wouldn’t hit anyone’s car or dog. And then it stopped. I was afraid we were playing some sort of game of tag and if I passed it, it would catch up with me on another gust of wind and knock me in the head, so I reached out and picked it up to move it off the road. Then I felt really silly walking down the road with a five-foot tumbleweed.

Apparently, I didn’t realize cause I’d never decided to touch one before… but tumbleweeds feel like a cactus, only maybe alittle worse. Because now my hands are full of about a hundred little yellow needles or pricker-like things. And where I dropped him off in the grass, tumbleweed immediately decided to go dance off across the road again anyway. So, all in vain. But atleast I will always be able to say, during those endless stretches of highway in Kansas and you have nothing to talk about except “Whoa, look at that tumbleweed!”… Now I’ll say, “But did you ever see one of them 5 footer ones? No? Well, I have.” And maybe I could make one out of concrete and post signs along a 70 mile stretch of highway telling people to pull off and see the “World’s Largest Tumbleweed!…and a 3-Legged Cow named Sue” (except I’ll say the cow fell and broke a hip and is in a cow treatment facility). And I’d put my attraction right next to the World’s Largest Prairie Dog and feed off it’s business, especially since he’s never open.

Venetian

Vegas with Amy and Danielle

foot appreciating Vegas architecture

roadtrip- Lawrence, KS

Henry

my zion

Who knew two years later, I'd be sitting in my car back at this Best Western, stealing wireless internet, working the same job again, and most amazingly, that this computer Shawna gave me would still be alive!

A week ago, I turned a key and pushed through a heavy door and into the living room of my home for the next 7 months. Dropped my bags at my feet and finished unloading the car. It didn’t take long because I roadtripped with two other friends and their own luggage, so basically everything I own here was shoved into the hatchback trunk of my car.

I expected to be the last to arrive in this house, as work started the next day. But I soon learned from maintenance that I would be living here alone for the next month. My two housemates are seasonals for wildfire and they don’t need to arrive till May. I scouted out the bedrooms and immediately came face to face with Henry.

Henry got his name because I needed to put a friendly, happy spin on this unwelcome housemate. He’s a large spider with fangs that are visible from a few feet away, furry pale yellow legs with black feet, and when he spreads his legs out he’s the size of the palm of my hand. I remembered these guys from when I lived in Zion before. I don’t think they bite. I just think they’re kinda OCD as they scurry from room to room eating up all the spiders and gnats and ants that creep in, like little furry maids that actually love their job.

So it’s me and Henry here together. He follows me and watches me do laundry and cook my meals and at night when I come out of the bathroom from brushing my teeth, he is waiting at the door like Reese, my dog, always did when her eyes begged isn’t it time for bed? Except Henry has a lot of eyes and I don’t like to get close enough to see all of them.

I could kick Henry out… but I have two fears- that he’d come back all angry and use his fangs on me in my sleep, or the more likely, my house will become overrun by lots of bugs and spiders that really would bite me in my sleep.

My job is the same as I did two years ago. Lots of things have changed, but I’m remembering a lot and that is helping. I’m on a four day weekend already and I am bored out of my mind. How could I be bored in Zion? I’ve gone out walking or hiking almost everyday and honestly, I’m just tired of walking alone. If I could put a spider on a leash, well, I guess I’d take him.

People have probably given up checking up on me since I haven’t posted in ages, but if you do, you’re welcome to come visit me. I’m lonely! And I like visitors. Yes, even you.

I haven't written in ages. I'm so used to writing about adventures and life right now in Ohio just isn't that exciting. I haven't applied for jobs yet because I really don't know what to do.

If anybody reads this, please send (1)money (2)job ideas

I know a lot of us say we're a part of this campaign but I guess you're not really a part until you act on it. This sounds like a good time to act...

http://action.one.org/dia/organizationsONE/one/campaign.jsp?campaign_KEY=1297&t=OneColumn.dwt

the acorn slippers/coming home

I couldn’t find my acorn slippers anywhere today. It drove me nuts (dum dum tah). I went around blaming everybody, even questioning if I somehow took them off while pushing through the day-after-Thanksgiving Target crowds and came home barefoot. I had to wear mom’s Crocs the rest of the day. I hate those shoes. They make my feet feel really nice but they look ridulous.

I can’t believe I actually went out today. I came home minus a pair of shoes and with a bruised ankle from some lady who decided to push me out of her way with her cart and hit me right in the achilles tendon. Her lips formed the word “sorry” but all I heard was “that’ll teach you, ya lard, for standing in the middle of the way while I’m trying to rush to that last turkey fryer on sale for $30!” But, it’s all a part of coming home to the Christmas season. This is what we do. And I like it. Mom and I find any excuse to “run errands” and drive through Wendy’s along the way to get our medium-sized Mr. Pibbs.

I’m surprised to find coming home isn’t much of a shock to me. All year I went around thinking my cat since elementary school, Miss Kitty, had died while I was in Colorado because no one had mentioned her on the phone to me. She’s not regular conversation, but no one said a word and I knew that meant she finally died and nobody wanted to tell me. I walked into the house Tuesday night and there she was, back turned to me, totally ignoring me in her cute hateful way. I reached down to pet her, exclaiming my joy that she was alive, and she growled, hissed, and launched a fist at me. I also had figured some of our stray cats would have disappeared by now, but they’re all still here, almost still in one piece. The one, who we always dubbed the “smart” one, seems to have dislodged her brain from her spinal cord or something. She doesn’t see too straight anymore and she walks around shaking her little head and it makes a loud rattling noise. She has a defense mechanism now only rattlesnakes had before, and I think that’s cute.

Ohio has surprised me with sunshine and almost tshirt weather. Three days now. Sometimes I feel like celebrating global warming. The house looks and feels mostly the same, except for the old fart bedroom my parents built on the first floor. My brothers all came home for my birthday and Thanksgiving and I’ve been farted on and burped at and it feels somewhat nostalgic. The neffew, Carter, is humongous and walks around singing and smiling. The greesedog sleeps with me every night. My first meal I requested, tuna noodle casserole. And I gulped it down with several big glasses of milk. After ten months of living on $4 a day for food I’ve realized that’s pretty much how we eat anyway, except you get to eat more yogurt and drink more milk now.

My acorn shoes are sitting under this desk I’m typing at. I think that’s kind of funny. Now I remember that’s just where I left them and I feel bad for yelling at my brothers for stealing them. I feel like this is the setting for a good tv show ending… camera zooms in on the shoes, then me smiling, then pans out the window with some slowing piano music… because I left my shoes here, then lived a full day, and came back to them, right where I left them. In January, I drove off to Colorado, lived 10 months of life, and came home and found things haven’t really changed. And I like that.

heading home!

I graduated from Americorps on Wednesday. Spending a few days with my friends Amy and Jamie before I leave... absorbing as much of Colorado as I can before heading to cold and rainy and dark Ohio.

I'll be home by Thanksgiving!!!

leaving New Orleans

I had another dream about my sleepy grey town. Check out Oct 9, 2005 entry "fire dancers, pot smokers, and me." I wonder if every time I'm about to come home I'm going to dream about this town again.

I was walking down a sidewalk in a city full of skyscrapers. The clouds were grey, the buildings were grey, everything was grey. It was one of the only times I've been very aware that my dreams are black and white. I was walking with two of my good friends, except when I glanced at them I realized I didn't know them at all. I had no clue who these people were that I was walking with but we all pretended to be friends and walked together.

I saw a big storefront window and stopped. My friends stopped and waited for me as I peeked inside. I cupped my hands around my face and looked in. Suddenly my dream burst into color and I saw New Orleans. I saw a row of houses; red, yellow, green, blue, and purple... sweet New Orleans houses. They're so beautiful all colorful and with decorative trim. But these houses were crooked, very crooked. Some on their sides, some upside down, some sinking into water.

I tried to figure out where I had seen this scene before. The chaos of Katrina stayed for months, now a year, stillframes of destruction, because there were more important things to do. A house sitting in the middle of the street could sit in the middle of that street for a year and that's why many published photos from the storm I can recognize and know exactly where they were taken. I knew this scene, I remembered it.

But I didn't want to remember it anymore. I turned around and looked at my two friends, "I'm ready to pretend this didn't happen." And we walked on.

I woke up.


I'm more than ready to get out of here. There's still so much to be done but I have a chance to get away. I need it.

The people of New Orleans who were able to come back can't get away. Day after day they drive to work, swerving down their streets through a neighborhood of debris piles and at night they come home to the same familiar scene. They want to get away too, but their duty right now is to stay. The city needs them to stay. The city needs its life back. So many people were just put on planes and rushed out of here, sent to weird destinations like New Hampshire. And not everybody has the money to get a car or plane ticket to get back. They can't be blamed.

I want out of here so bad but there's so much more to do. I have a feeling I won't be gone long...