An Adventure With a Silly Sticker

But my attitude plummeted early Monday morning when I found out I had to wear sticker in a respectable part of my clothing. It read "May I Help U". No one was to crazy about wearing that sticker for the next three days. Someone higher up in another division had decided it would be a good idea for those who work in Student Services to wear it. The students are not hesitant to ask for help if they need it. The skinny coed was hungry and she approached me I wasn't wearing the annoying sticker.  Not everyone in our department wore a sticker; just most of us in the tuition/student loans wore it. The cashiers who work directly with students didn't wear their stickers. One person was tempted to wear it Fonzi (Happy Days) style. When I went to lunch, I was tempted to post to one of wide cement poles that hold up the building, but I knew it wouldn't stick. I almost removed it and stuck it on a toilet paper roll dispenser, but I thought my boss, Lisa would find it.

But after lunch, I grew weary of wearing it and stuck it on (not in) my trashcan under my desk. Lisa was so busy putting out fires in tuition that she never noticed it. I don't think she was wearing a sticker, but Pat did. I wonder if he was still wearing it when he left work at three to pick up a train wreck. (don't ask, long story)

 The next day I waited until after 8am. I was not thrilled to wear this sticker again, not even a fresh one. (I was given the three.) But after my the sticker police, my boss, Pat, went thru the office. I put it on. Not everyone did. Arnold (name was changed to protect the innocent) refuse to wear it. One day was enough. No one really forward to another day of a dumb idea. When I went on break, I stuck it to my monitor so I'd remember to wear the silly thing when I got back. After break I got creative with my camera in my cellphone. If I had to wear that sticker I could at least get some entertainment out of it.

After joking about it being a final resting place, I could not resist.

 I may not be wearing it, but I am still asking "May I Help U"

My sentiments exactly - not a bright idea

On the third day I got to work and I did not want to wear that sticker not even a fresh one. So I left the 3rd sticker untouched.

But after break I put on. I decided I needed some more adventures. I noticed that Arnold posted one of the stickers by the front desk, where students could see it. 

But I have to admit wearing that sticker is beneath me.

And no, I'm not pledging alligence to the flag, I'm covering up the sticker.

And at the end of the day, I just want to wash my hands of any silly sticker wearing.

1st Day of School

I wasn't in an episode of Lost On Campus like I was last year. As I walking across campus after I got off the bus, only one person asked me for directions. The skinny coed wanted to know where some food was at 7:30am. I pointed her toward the Union. It wasn't as crowded as last year. I didn't anyone looking at the maps located through out campus or anyone ask another person for directions. It was like the lost freshman were at another campus or still on the freeway. But when the day was over and I was riding home on Trax, I realized that for a Monday and the 1st day of school; it wasn't a half bad day. Even wearing a stupid sticker didn't make that much of a dent. And there was no confused mother from an episode of Lost On Campus.

A Pioneer Day Weekend

I was walking up the stairs from the laundry room and I could hear the rain. It sounded so good, almost like music to my ears. I was also grateful that I could enjoy the sound. Because there was one Pioneer Day Weekend that I couldn't enjoy the rain. My first reminder of that Pioneer Day Weekend was Sunday as the congregation sang the closing hymn "Come, Come Ye Saints" in Sacrament Meeting. I remembered how I felt when I sung those words in a similar meeting 19 years ago. Two days before that meeting, my brothers and I had been evacuated from my apartment. The roofs of the buildings we being replaced. While the work was being done, Salt Lake County experienced a Seattle rain day. The supervisor made a decision of not allowing the exposed roof to cover with tarp. His reasoning was that the tarp would endanger the walls of the building. When I came home that Friday evening after spending a day at my friend's. There was fire truck in the parking lot. I couldn't smell smoke, but the firemen were checking out the structure of the building. Before long there was a knock at my door and a firefighter was informing me to evacuate. I'm not sure where John was or if he came home during the chaos. All I remember is that I called my friend, Jewel to inform her I was returning to house to spend the night. One does not think, you just do.  July 24th, Pioneer Day in Utah was sunny and so was the next day. I sat in church with John, attending a ward I had never attended before. (I attended a singles ward in the same area.). As we were sing "Come,Come Ye Saints" I thought of the Pioneers when they were evicted from their homes in Nauvoo, Illinois. I understood a bit better what they felt; what it was like for them. They didn't think, they just did. Six or seven months later in 1994 our stake had regional conference in the tabernacle. Again "Come,Come Ye Saints" was sung, but this time, I identified with gratitude of finding a place to live and a place to stay while Jay and I looked for a place. Jewel opened up her home to us for three weeks. Her husband, Chuck was in the remodeling the kitchen.  Although on Sunday when my current ward was singing "Come,Come Ye Saints" I had a hard identifying with eviction that the Pioneers faced, I was reminded of the kind acts that followed the evacuation of the Cherry Hill Apartments. People of the ward that I attended offered thier homes to those who suddenly homeless. The Red Cross looked after us. (Now you know why I don't mind donating to the Red Cross or the Road Home.) Because of Jewel's kindness I now find it necessary to supply food or money when the Utah Food Bank has a fund drive. It is my way of saying thanks. I appreciate the members from my singles ward helping Jay and I move. I think I knew that 24th of July that I wasn't coming back to Cherry Hills. I'm glad that my nephews, Kevin and Jared had the good sense to be born on the 23rd and 24th of July. I can celebrate on those days instead of lamenting. And I am glad that Crystal was born a year later; not only is she a reminder that prayers are answered, but that life goes on. And I enjoy the rain, even when it rains all day. My soul is refreshed. The smell of rain still reminds me of home and how blessed I have been throughout my life.

Thoughts from July 2005

Love Is Eternal   I coined this phrase as I was sleeping in last Saturday morning, but the concept started twenty-five years ago when my Dad died.  Even though my Dad was gone, I knew he still loved me and watched over me.  One might say that a way I coped with his death. But what got the concept rolling this morning was Garrett Bardsley.  He is still missing Boy Scout, hiding somewhere in Uinta's waiting for someone to discover his body.  His family has prayed and searched for him, with no luck in finding him.  Garrett is a good man.   During the winter, a school in Central or South America was built in his honor.   Garrett's family had it done either thru funds raised to help Garrett or some other means.  Maybe Mr. Bardsley funded the means himself.  The school bears Garrett's name.  I would not be surprised that Garrett watches over his family, helping them be better people, trying to tell them where he is hiding.  And maybe Garrett was helping the searchers find Brennan Hawkins.  And I bet that Garrett loves his family and friends just like they love him. And like Dad, I wouldn't be surprised there are other people who love, watch and try to communicate with their families and friends even though they have departed from this life. So love is eternal. Praying & Trusting   My thoughts from yesterday's sleep-in carried over.  It was the Bardsley vs. Hawkins debate.  Why was Brennan found when Garrett wasn't?   We really don't know why Garrett is still missing and Brennan was found alive, except that there is a reason why things turned out the way they did.  Maybe Garrett and Brennan are and were helping each other in their searches.  The Bardsleys have prayed and searched for him, with no luck in finding him; while Hawkins had the luck of having their prayers answered.   Why were the Hawkins' prayers answered and not the Bardsley's? Prayers in behalf of each boy were and are still being answered.  The Hawkins were no more righteous than the Bardsley's, nor are the Bardsley's a better family than Hawkins because of the difference of depth of the trails.  There is a reason (or reasons) why things in each case went the way they did. When Brennan was found alive, his mother exclaimed that since Brennan had been found alive that prayers were answered and that the heavens were not close.  Defense went up for those who had negative answers to prayers and what of Bardsleys, who son was still at large, probably under a foot of snow that had yet to melt.  Brennan's mother was probably expressing her gratitude and got a little too zealous in the expression.  The Lord is mindful of the Bardsley's prayers and desires of the heart.  Maybe Brennan was found alive to help the searcher to keep the faith.  It is possible to find lost loved ones alive.  Brennan can testify of his experiences while lost that aid searchers in the future for finding those who will get lost in mountains.  And hopefully, Brennan's success will help those searching for Garrett.  I can't stop to think that if Garrett had been found alive last summer, would his dad have been inspired to help rebuild a school in Garrett's honor.  One can say the Garrett's father and family have had their gold refined.  And Brennan's mom has her gold refined since he was found.  There was quite an uproar that occurred when she made her zealous comment on prayer.  The reactions probably paused to look within herself and hopefully reach out to those who aren't so lucky. It takes a lot of trust when one prays.  For Garrett, it is trusting that he will be found.  It was late in summer when he disappeared and Brennan, who was lost at the beginning of the summer.  Winter was closing in Garrett, while Brennan was dealing with the awakening of summer.  But still the Uinta Mountains are unpredictable.  Brennan was facing cold nights just Garrett. Just after Brennan was found, bad weather struck again in the Uintas.   It is trusting in the reasons why one was found alive and the other is missing.  It is accepting the bad news when our prayers aren't answer the way we wanted them to be answered.  And not be jealous when some one's prayer was answered quickly, while our prayers seem to be on hold.  It takes faith to trust in our prayers.  Our prayers are not answer in the way we feel the should.  The Lord knows what is best for each situation, who can handle what and when it can be handle.  The Lord knows our strengths and our weakness and I think that he answers our prayers according, not on our worthiness.   Read “Faith Is the Answer” by Elder David E Sorensen, April 2005 General Conference. (May 2005 Ensign or www.lds.org) 7/2012   A year or two ago, I was watching a BYU station. Garrett's dad was one of the guest for the program that aired. Garrett was still missing and as of this date has never been found. His dad spoke of the volunteer search and rescue program that he started shortly after Garrett was lost. He was grateful that this new program was in place in time for finding  Brennan. Volunteers were not allowed to search for Garrett and that had made difference in finding Brennan. I did not sense any bitterness in Garrett's dad, but gratitude that lost people in the Uintas and other wilderness areas had a better chance of being found.

A Memorable 4th of July Weekend

Ten years three of my siblings,  their families and I vacationed just outside of Florence, Oregon. Those who went had a good time. When it was time to leave on that Saturday, Vanessa commented that she didn't want to leave. I had to agree with her. It had been such a peaceful time in the campground and we had all enjoyed ourselves.  We traveled that Thursday, the 4th from Olympia and Poulsbo, Washington. (Jay and I flew into Seattle from Salt Lake earlier.) One our first activities was to check out the Oregon Sand Dunes, which had a lake (or maybe it was a large pond) that bordered the dunes. Most of the younger people could not avoid the water. Maybe it was too hot (but not as hot as Utah) or some Boice-Jacksons have a strong attraction to noticeable sizes of bodies of water. Puddles and water lapping at the river bank tempted Laura's boys even at Thanksgiving  time. After our brief activity and dinner, we went into Florence to see the fireworks. The fireworks took place on a river which emptied into the Pacific Ocean a short distance away. We had a good view of the fireworks, but without the view of the river. That was okay, it was just as good as if we seen the fireworks at Sugarhouse park. The next day was spent sand boarding and some hiking. There was a spot on top of the hills where one could see the ocean. We also had a picnic at a beach north of the campground. Some of us took a tour of the Heceta Head Lighthouse. Early Saturday morning we ate breakfast and packed up. Along the way we checked out another beach. Only Skylar, Vanessa and her cousin, Moki ventured out into the ocean. Maybe is their fathers' side of the family that causes this attraction, but I doubt it. My siblings and I would play in the ditches during the summer. We arrived back in Olympia and Poulsbo that evening and we greeted with rain the next day. Jay and I didn't mind the rain, but residents of Poulsbo were sick of it. Western Washington is known for it's year round rain festival. That late rainy Sunday afternoon we boarded our flight back to hot dry Utah. John picked us up at the airport that evening. As he was driving us home, I felt the hot breeze and I wanted to turn the car around and head back to Seattle. But I have  to admit it was good to be home.

Old Grocery list

A few months, the zipper pull on my purse broke. So when I got home that night I dug out my old cross pack that I used when I volunteered at the Salt Lake Oympics in 2002.I found this grocery list. milk 1% & whole (1/2)     2% (1/2) bread (2 loaves whole wheat) 5 lb beef minute rice 2 can cream of celery (fat free) frozen potatoes (diced hash brown) 2 cream mushroom w/ roasted garlic 2 (16 oz.) frozen vegi   tortilla chips   What was I making? I have no clue. If you have any idea what I planned to with these food items please let me. I posted this from my Google app on my iPad as a test to see if this works.

It Got Personal

When the University of Utah joined the PAC12, I discovered a new rivalry. Dana loves his University of Washington Huskies (which he lovingly calls his Dawgs) and I love my Utes. Lucky for both of us, our teams met in the first season. I sent Dana Utah paraphernalia to him and his daughters. He threatened to send me Washington paraphernalia, but I never received it. Last week (the third week of June) the Campus Store had their annual sidewalk and I bought some items on clearance. I got so caught up in the rivalry; I put sticky notes on one of my favorite picture. I don't think his daughters care one way or others about their Dad's Dawgs or their Auntie's Utes. I just have to give Dana cain. The three arrows are pointing to all his daughters, even Mo who was a year away from making her earthy debut.

My Perfect Morning

As I was walking around campus this Wednesday morning, I thought of My Perfect Morning.  It is still June and is somewhat cool in the mid morning hours.  I wrote this five years ago when another morning walk on campus during June inspired this musing.

 

My Perfect Morning

The picture I had vision in high school was a not-so-fresh cut lawn (which was already raked of excess grass clippings).  I painted the sky a pale yellow, with a hint of a pale baby blue.  The sun is no longer on the horizon, but it is somewhere in the sky where it doesn't bother my eyes. 

When I walked this past week on the University of Utah campus, I remember that painting.  (I can't remember if I actually painted it or just visualized the painting)  Except this time, I feel the freshness of the morning.  I imagine the temperature to a bit warmer, because it my vision of a perfect morning, I am wearing short sleeves and a modest pair of shorts.  I picture myself being ten or twelve years old, but this time my red hair is just past my shoulders and not just to my chin. A white stretch cotton headband is keeping my hair out of my face. I've decided this morning takes place in the early summer, probably Memorial Weekend.  I am sitting on a park bench that swings; it has a canopy that invisible to the naked eye.  The sun is allowed to shine on my back and I am allowed to see the pale yellow sky with a hint of pale baby blue color lurking behind it.  My flip-flops are discarded on grass in front of me.  And maybe I have a good book in my lap.  (To Kill A Mockingbird or A Separate Peace).  If I am drinking something, it is a glass of juice, probably a combination of grape, apple and cranberry flavors.  I am at peace and just enjoying the moment.  It is quiet and no one else is around.  If my mom is up, she is the house, doing whatever she pleases.  My dad is out in the field, working hard and soon will come in for breakfast.  So I guess my mom isn't doing what she pleases, because she probably fixing breakfast.  This moment won't last long, because soon I will be called to eat, the sun will get higher in the sky and the day will get warmer.  The freshness of the morning will disappear and cares of the world will sneak in once more.  I will remember my perfect morning as I attend to all the daily demands of an adult.

Pat on the Back

I saw this postcard or whatever you want to call on Facebook. Sad to say, I laughed. But then I got to thinking about this postcard in a different light. At the first of the month, I attended a session on change while I was at work.  It inspired my first post for May. This month brought some changes, not so much in my own life, but in others.  This postcard began to take on a different meaning. Sometimes we have to take a big pat (shove) on the back to motivate us to change because it usually isn't what we want, but something that will make us a better person. But I have to admit, I like what a 13 year old Laura said thirty something years ago, ”Sometimes it would be nice to receive blessings that aren't in disguise."