Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa

I think Otis Redding says it best. Faaa fa-fa fa fa fa-fa faa fa. What does it mean...? Who cares, I mean it's a sad song, but it's a lovely song. It's like listening to someone with a great accent. You don't really care about what they're saying. They could be talking about their ailing grandmother and you'd still be smiling. I was watching a commercial on tv recently when some pennsylvania friends were out for a visit. It was about a vacuum. It was captivating. Do I care about vacuum technology, do I even remember which vacuum was advertised? Pretty much no, but Shannon and I were still drooling over it. Was the guy particularly good-looking? No, no you would be missing the point here. He was...British I think. Which means that whatever he says is absolutely fascinating.

Now Matt picked up on this right away and was giving us a bad time. He said it's so annoying how girls will swoon over an Australian accent, New Zealand, English, Irish, Scottish... I admit, it's completely shallow, but... ahem... it's not just girls, I reminded him. Which he conceded. So why is that? What is so lovely about some accents, and let's face it, repulsive about others. Not all accents are appealing. The Brooklyn doesn't do it for me. But Scottish, you can't even understand sometimes... which is just perfect.

I think it must be the combination of familiar language and the strangeness of its sound. It demands your attention, to really catch it and somehow you just get caught up in catching it all. Maybe that's part of why we like lyrics and poetry. It's not the mundane language we're used to hearing and saying all day. It makes you think about what's being said, but mostly it's supposed to sound pleasant. There's a rhythm to it, which is hard to resist.

Hi Kids

i just recently came accross the last letter my father wrote to me, which is significant because i don't remember him ever writing one before it. he wrote it last february, and i am so glad to have it since he will never give me any more advice. he wasn't big on advice, so i don't know what came over him to make him write this:

Hi Kids,


It has been on my mind to pass some thoughts along to you.

It constantly amazes me how fast time passes. Be sure to savor every moment even if it is somewhat bitter. The bitterness defines the sweetness. Smell the flowers. Plan for the future, but live in the present. It is only here for an instant and then it is gone forever. Treasure your memories and savor the past, but don't live there. Make life a well planned adventure. Always look foreward.

I recall your mother's quoting her father telling her that she will make mistakes, but try not to make the same ones twice-- there are enough to make without repeating any. I have found this true. Sometimes you may find yourselves lingering too long in one mistake. Once you realize it, move on. Don't dwell on your mistakes, just learn from them.

People and family are important. Stuff is just a tool to help you enjoy life. Live for the Lord and work in his will. Real happiness is found there. Remember that temporal life is a journey and a preparation for eternity, where real peace abides.

All my love!

Dad

Elevator Romance

i know, nothing screams romance like an elevator. or perhaps you disagree. but before you're set on your opinion, let me tell you a little story. this is a story about two people who meet in an elevator, an elevator that would change their lives in a way they never could have known. call it fate, call it technical difficulties, call it whatever you like, but don't laugh, because for all you know, it could be a true life story.

one day, (i'll change the names to protect the actual characters) hildegard got onto an elevator at the fourth floor. the elevator went up. the elevator stopped at the seventh floor. the doors opened. ademaro [which means glorious in battle, but is completely irrelevant since this was not actually his name] got onto the elevator. the doors closed. the elevator went up. it got stuck between the tenth and eleventh floors. it would not go up. it would not go down. the elevator was stuck for nineteen hours. hildegard and ademaro were together for nineteen hours. they talked, and talked, and talked. finally, the elevator went up and the doors opened. hildegard and ademaro were tired. they were hungry. they were thirsty. they were in love. three months later they got married.

if you do a little editing, make all the verbs simple present tense, change the names back, you pretty much have the story i gave to my students. they thought is was pretty funny. but like i said, don't laugh, because i have a certain friend who once had a very special elevator experience. i wasn't there, but i've heard the story many times. apparently she was wearing a nice sweater that almost got her a suiter.... almost.

Plans

i am ready. ready for summer. i realize that i may be rushing things a little, but there's nothing like anticipation right? besides, it's already march, which has got to be one of the best months known to man. and i'm already planning some fun summer goals. last week i went snow shoeing twice, which was super fun, but now i am waiting for the melting to hurry up so i can get to my favorite activities. like hiking, running, climbing in and out of the canyon, biking, and finally, yellow stone exploration.

as for hiking: must hike pocatello with monica, and something in boise... maybe mt. borah, you ready monty? and of course the endless possibilites north of here. day hikes, yes, but there is also some exciting scheeming going on about a 60 mile hike from galena to stanley, where we can resupply, and back. and apparently mike wants to hike every peak in between.

and then maybe a half marathon in june, which i would be more likely to do if i had a running buddy, even if that running buddy only ran with me on race day... hint, hint.... katie. i think you should do it. and then, maybe, maybe, maybe in october if all goes well, maybe i will run a full marathon with gen and bobby. finally. or else... one day i will run one.

i am thinking i might bike to buhl one day, i've always sort of wanted to. i don't know why buhl exactly, but smith dairy does have very good ice cream, so that might make it worthwhile.

so that's what i'm thinking for now. if you want to come visit, bring some hiking boots. i'm going to the canyon first, it's not as snowy right now.

mine cough

i have a little friend i'd like to lose, but he will never go
he follows me and comes with me and goes with me
the sneeky little devil cannot take a hint,
for when i think i've seen the last of him
he shows up once again

i beg and plead, and nearly weep
but does he care a enough to give me some respite?
no, not he, my selfish friend
he wouldn't give a second thought
if he had thought a first

and now i can not stand it any longer
go! you silly, stupid thing
i do not want to see you hanging 'round me more
i tell you leave, you insolent grime
i need you not today nor ever any more

Bears are Picky

So, I just met up with an old high school friend, and she told me a story about how she went camping with her family. Their foodstuffs got raided by a local, hungry bear, who apparently was not completely satisfied with the macaroni salad. He bit through the lid (I saw pictures as evidence) and ate the whole salad, except for the pickles, which he left in the bottome of the bowl. Who knew scavenging beasts could be so picky, but on the other hand I have been a bread scavenger of sorts. And I may have been a little choosey in my selections.

Linguas de Gato

Doesn't that sound appetizing? I'm eating some right now, delicious. Cat Tongue Cookies. Or at least they're supposed to look like cat tongues. I'm sceptical about the actual resemblance had by these little biscuit-like human cat-anatomy-shaped treats. And on the bag are three cartoon cats, presumably tongueless ones. Their names are Tobias, Malaquias, and Jeremias. I have no idea where the trio is supposed to be from, and even less idea where the bag of cookies came from, but that doesn't keep me from enjoying them. I do know the person who sent said cookies in a care package marked "Detweiler & Crew", I mean I met her a few years ago. I suppose they are more my sister's cookies than mine since they're from her friend and all, but I seem to be more enamored with them, so perhaps the cookies would prefer to be eaten by one such as myself. I think so.