Rambling about nothing

Six years ago on this blog, I introduced a term, lemits, to refer to this peculiar time of year.

That was a long time ago, and I think it was a little awkward/naive/immature to coin a word for a particular phenomenon in my own life. (If I recall correctly, I dreamed up the word "lemits," and then later, in my waking hours, I decided to make this phenomenon its definition.)

Nevertheless, this is a very real phenomenon for me, though it has been several years since I have felt it strongly.

Between roughly mid-February and early April, there's a really weird feeling in the air. I don't know how to describe it other than weird. It's starting to stay light a little later, but still not that late. (The earlier start of Daylight Saving Time has impacted lemits significantly.) It's trying to be spring, but winter won't release its icy grasp quite yet.

And one of the most problematic parts of it is that it can be (though it isn't always) depressing. Sad things seem sadder, and neutral and even happy things can seem sad. I'm not sure why, because January is a much darker, bleaker, more depressing month. But it's February and March that bring the actual sad feelings.

I had to go to the doctor on Wednesday because I have a weird fungus on my arm. (Wouldn't it be strange awesome if mushrooms could grow on our arms?) They did some basic health checks (they will have inaccurate weight for me, because I was wearing a bulky coat), and they asked me questions about depression. I answered no to all of them, because I really think I'm fine. They asked me if I ever feel down or depressed, and I said no, because this week has really been the only time in quite a while that I have. I don't know if my experience is Seasonal Affective Disorder or something else.

Anyway, this is probably all very boring and makes it sound like I'm really struggling. I'm not. It's just this weird time of year, and the weather annoyed me this week.

Snow is pretty. I'll grant you that. And after studying hydrogeology, I understand it's vital. But it does put a damper on things. My friend wanted to go some places on my bucket list this week, but it snowed, and I thought it unwise to go someplace just for fun on the same day as hundreds of traffic accidents.

It also meant I couldn't do as much running, and I didn't do any biking. I thought about swimming, but the doctor said I have to wait for my fungus to heal. And since I'm counting calories for Lent, I really like doing cardio, because my Fitbit app gives me more calories the more I exercise. (I know the count isn't that accurate the more you exercise, but I'm still pretending it is.) So I have opted to clear snow by hand, rather than use the snowblower, so I can eat more green things. (I also submitted reviews for new Easter products, which should go up in the next week or two.)

On one of my runs, I had to run on the road because the sidewalk was snowy, and there was an uneven surface. I kind of twisted my foot/ankle, but I thought it was just fine--it surprised me more than hurt me, and I ran eight miles after doing so. But then once I was done, it was pretty sore, like I actually hurt it. But it's better now. It does really bother me that people leave their sidewalks unclear, especially if they have nice yards in the summer. If you can keep up the yard, you can keep up the sidewalk. And if you pay someone to do the yard, you can pay someone to do the sidewalk.

I had to drive out to a job interview in the snow, and I didn't like that, even though I purposely picked a car that would be good in snow.

Jimmy the cat has some matted fur, we noticed this week. So when he comes up to me for one of his frequent cuddle sessions, I've been trying to comb them out. I've had some success. But there's still several more, and he doesn't like it when I do it--and I can't say I blame him. Sometimes he gets quite angry with me. Luckily, though, he's quick to forgive.

Today in church I sang "Consider the Lilies" as part of a quintet. I was truly the weakest link and had to do lots of falsetto singing, since I'm not a singer and have a poor range. So I tried to hide my voice behind the better singers.

This post ended up being way more boring than I expected it. But I think it would be even more boring to really describe my life, where all I do is apply to jobs and mill around the house.

Ash Valentine's Day

Of the nine holidays I formally celebrate, Valentine's Day is my least favorite. But that doesn't mean I don't like it. This was an enjoyable week.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a very physical week. The weather was indecisive, and I had some minor problems with my knee and my calf. But I did get to explore parts of a trail near Ensign Peak. It kind of disappeared on a ridge near City Creek Canyon. I wasn't impressed.

After the snow melts, I find all sorts of deer body parts. I also found part of a leg that still had fur and a hoof on it, but I didn't take a picture.

On Valentine's Day, I went out doing errands, including stopping at Winegars grocery store, which is closing. It's been there my whole life, so I'm a little sad. But I can't really say I'm surprised. In 2009 I noticed they had gone downhill, and I can't say they've improved since then. I often prefer going to the new Smith's, Dick's, and Lee's MarketPlace because they're all nicer stores. I saw a random comment on Facebook with a rumor of what the store would become. I find the rumor unlikely, so I won't spread it here--but if it's true, I will be very excited.

Valentine's Day was pretty low-key. I cleaned the kitchen while playing my Valentine's playlist on repeat (it only has sixteen songs). My family had pizza in honor of four years ago, when my mom broke her leg while carrying pizza, and we just watched the Olympics. Some friends dropped off a Valentine card signed by a bunch of friends. It was very thoughtful. Thank you!

Valentine's Day was also Ash Wednesday. I decided to count calories for Lent. You might recall that I counted calories from July 2016 to July 2017, and I gained weight over Christmas and California, so I'm counting again. But forty days is a lot easier/less daunting than a year.

I had several strange, spooky dreams, though I wouldn't necessarily call them nightmares. In the first, I was going up North Canyon, and at the trailhead (at the end of the dirt road), there was a building where I had a job interview. Once I had finished my interview and eaten lunch, I ran up the canyon, wondering if I would catch up with people from my ward who had just walked up. But before I got to Rudy's Flat, I found that a new resort building had been erected there. (There was also a pile of snow with bear tracks in it.) I went in the resort, and even though it was new, it seemed rather old, like the building at the bottom of the trail. But there was a scary clown that lived in mirrors and stalked people. My mind more-or-less consciously created characteristics of this clown. He could travel outside of mirrors, but only for a maximum of thirty minutes. The longer he was out of the mirror, the weaker he would get, and as he got weaker, he would turn into an octopus. He could travel from mirror to mirror, but he could only travel to the next-closest mirror. If you broke a mirror, it just meant there were lots of tiny, jagged mirrors he could travel through. He could also travel to shiny metal, such as handles, but not to reflections in clear windows. He began chasing me (via mirrors) throughout the resort, and even as I ran back down the canyon. (There was a wasp stinging me in there somewhere.)

In the second strange dream, there was a stream that flowed through our backyard. There had recently been a murder, and bones from the victim were carried by the stream. I took some of the smaller bones out, but then I realized I shouldn't do that, because they might test for DNA and I might be a suspect. So when I saw the skull and torso (ribs and backbone) in the stream, I decided to leave them there. I left and came back, and the stream had turned to a mudslide, and the skull and torso were no longer visible. I didn't know if they were buried or if they floated away, but I realized I couldn't leave any more bones in the stream. There were some fires under the mud, and a friend started playing with one, and it turned out the pelvis was on fire. I was deciding whether I should use a stick to fish it out of the stream of flow.

In the third dream, I was stuck at Smith's Marketplace, which was on lockdown because there was a shooter or bomber on the loose. (Isn't it sad I would have dreams like that? I wrote a relevant post five years ago--it's a little dated, but I still mostly agree with it.) The police eventually decided that it was late enough at night that it would be better for us to leave and go home, rather than all be together in one location. But we still had to make our way home with the shooter on the loose. I was with my parents, and after we had driven a little, they decided that the oil in the car was too old, so we couldn't drive it. So we began slowly walking home, and my niece, my aunt, and my grandparents all joined in at some point. At one point I was driving them all on a little kiddie trike, but it was still super slow. I learned that the shooter was a neighborhood kid at Orchard Elementary, and I was worried because we were still going so slow, and to go home we would have to go closer to the volatile zone.

Yesterday, my friend Susan and I went to southern Utah so I could get some more counties off my bucket list for this year: Beaver, Iron, and Washington. We went to the Cedar City Temple, which had a grayish-blue and rust-colored motif.

Cedar City has a great view.

 We also went to the St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site, where a major dinosaur trackway was discovered during construction in 2000. I remember 2000 pretty well! It's amazing that such big finds are still happening in my lifetime. It was fascinating to see all the tracks, especially the skin impressions. But I'm not a paleontologist, so I can't see all the tracks and marks they do.

Sometimes it can be challenging to work on my computer, because my cat will come up needing some love. Today he sat on my laptop. I was listening to music, yet he somehow got more music playing at the same time. Then he turned the volume full blast, and he got a look on his face like, "What is that noise? What's going on?!" Then he muted it and walked away. 😆

Second week of February

I was thinking about making a list of things I don't like (such as ice, feta, and throw pillows) since I didn't have a very interesting week. Yet somehow, each week I get between 50 and 90 pageviews, and I get positive reactions. I even get people thinking my posts are funny, even when I'm not trying to be funny. (Are they laughing at me?) So my list of things I don't like will wait for another time.

It has been on my bucket list to visit every city in Davis County, and I only had one left, South Weber. So I decided to drive up to check it off my list. First I stopped at Layton Hills Mall to get a new Valentine's Day tie, since I had one I hated. (It was very gaudy and covered with hearts and lips. I got it in fifth grade, but it seems a little too romantic for that age.) I also ended up with an Easter tie that I liked more than another one I have.

Then I decided to stop at Kays Creek Parkway, a paved running trail in Layton. It was a fun diversion, with views of Hobbs Reservoir, but it wouldn't be worth the drive just to go there. But I can't judge it very fairly, because nothing is pretty in February.

Then I drove through South Weber. It seemed like a pretty little town. And I had that checked off my list.

On Tuesday, I went downtown to meet a former coworker for lunch. He had heard about this blog from another coworker, so I gave him the URL. So, uh, hi Scott!

I wanted to go to the Capitol, which is also on my bucket list, but it looked very busy, so I didn't.

I went home and biked to the Bountiful Temple from my house. It's much easier than running, even though I went a little farther (because I chose a route that seemed less trafficked).

Jimmy continues to be an adorable, affectionate, and hilarious cat, sitting in and on anything he can.

Since this February is like it was in 2015, the snow has mostly melted and I've been able to hit the trails again, this week the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. On Wednesday I ran to Ensign Peak, about nine miles roundtrip.

On Thursday it was past the last radio tower (about eight miles).

And Friday was a new portion of the trail, and I ended up by a Miocene (I think) conglomerate outcrop, which I saw from the other direction when I ended up in City Creek Canyon on Thanksgiving Day. (This was also about nine miles. I might have gone farther, but I had to get back home for a phone interview.)

This week also brought back the Olympics, the only sports I'm interested in watching. I've found that team spirit and sportsmanship is a lot more friendly in Olympics than it is in team sports. The Olympics have a "We're all in this together" feel. (I heard some of Philadelphia's Superbowl celebrations ended in crime. If you commit crimes to celebrate, you are a horrible person.)

Winter Olympics are intense. With the summer Olympics, I feel like I could do most (or many) of the sports, just on a much slower/weaker scale. I could row a boat, run a race, or lift weights. Not so with winter Olympics. I have never been skiing or snowboarding, and I doubt I would like it. Ice is my archnemesis, so skating is out. Maybe I could do curling?

During the winter Olympics four years ago, my mom was laid up with a broken leg, so these are more favorable circumstances. I got to go to the Olympics sixteen years ago. There's talk of them coming back in twelve years, but if we keep having Februarys like this one, that might not be a viable option.

On Saturday, I was way more lazy than I would have liked to be. And Saturday evening, I happened to catch an episode of Star Trek, which I don't usually watch. It just happened to have a prebirth guest appearance by Lady Gaga.

The desert shall blossom as the hibiscus

Since I'm unemployed, every day is basically a weekend, and I got to do some fun things this week.

I had an interview out in Dugway, a military base in Tooele County. I find it unlikely I would accept a job where I had to go there every day, but I figured it couldn't hurt to interview, and it would be a fun road trip.

It was kind of strange being in Dugway. It looked like any other small desert town you might visit, but I had to get security clearance to go in, and I wasn't allowed to take any pictures.

On my way back, I had to stop in Iosepa, which I had heard of but never visited. I don't know if I'll ever have a reason to go out that direction again, so I had to take my chance.

Iosepa was a town for Hawaiian Saints between 1889 and 1917. They gathered to Utah to be closer to a temple, and the town was named for Joseph F. Smith, one of the first missionaries to Hawaii in the 1850s. I don't know enough about this period to know why all the Hawaiians were sent to the middle of the desert, since it didn't look like what I imagine Hawaii looks like. After a few decades of hardship, most returned to Hawaii when the temple was built in Laie.

As I pulled into the empty parking lot, a single tattered Utah flag fluttered in the wind. The Hawaiian community has a big gathering in Iosepa every Memorial Day weekend, and there were plenty of chairs, staging areas, grills, and restrooms to accommodate crowds. But otherwise it seems very isolated. I signed the guest register and was surprised to see that someone else had been there earlier that day, because I really felt like it was a place people wouldn't go. It was fun to go while I was out there, but I don't think it's worth making a special trip, unless you happen to be traveling west on I-80.

I have also wanted to try my hand at snowshoeing. (I mean try my foot.) My sister had some old snowshoes sitting in our garage, so I decided to try them on and went up to North Canyon, my default running spot during the summer and fall. I don't know if what I did there could technically be considered snowshoeing, because there were plenty of footprints where people hiked it without snowshoes. But I appreciated the extra security, since I'm terrified of slipping. Since I'm used to running up North Canyon, snowshoeing was very slow paced for me. It was more than twice as slow as running. It might make a good exercise backup during the winter, but I don't think it will become my favorite hobby.

It was a warm day, so I didn't worry about temperature. Since it was my first time snowshoeing, I wasn't well prepared. I didn't wear layers like you're supposed to, and I didn't have any snow pants. But I was fine. The worst part was that my heels kept rubbing against the back of my boots, so I have big sores on them now.

I got a robot vacuum on Wednesday. I think the model I got is a little low-tech compared to the others (e.g. I can't program it, and I can't control it with an app), but it appeared to be the best for cat hair. It's a fun little gadget. (I would show you a video, but Blogger and Google have joined forces to make it extremely cumbersome to put videos on here, unless I upload it to YouTube, but it's not special enough for that.)

Since my heels were still recovering from snowshoeing, I decided it would be a good opportunity to use my bike. Since I grew up on a steep hill, and I still live there, biking has never been convenient for me. When I got my car back in September, my two qualifications were good MPG and all-wheel drive, but having room for a bike was also a plus. On Wednesday I had a very short ride up our steep hill, but on Thursday I drove my bike down to the Legacy Parkway Trail. It's very flat, so I put my bike in the highest gear, and off I went. It was delightful. Before I knew it, I found myself in Centerville, so I made my way over to 7-Eleven, where I got a red velvet donut and organic Gatorade. (I don't know what organic Gatorade is, but I thought I'd try it. Water, milk, and Gatorade are the only non-seasonal drinks I can have.) 

After I had downed my Gatorade, it was time to get back on the bike. But what about the bottle? I couldn't bring myself to just throw it in the regular garbage. (Seriously, how do people live with themselves when they buy bottled water and just throw it in the garbage?!) So I tucked my shirt into my pants and stuck the bottle in my shirt so I could transport it home to put in the recycling.

I went about fourteen miles round trip, the farthest I have ever gone on a bike, and since it was so flat, it was astonishingly easy. I barely broke a sweat. A few weeks ago I talked about Facebook stalking an old mission companion who is an unpleasant person. In addition to his Trump-esque comments, he kept bragging about his bike rides, including ones that were a mere eleven miles. True, I'm sure he was going much faster than I did, and I don't know what his terrain was, but if I, as a non-cyclist, can easily bike fourteen miles, then eleven isn't anything to brag about.

The next day I did a nine-mile ride on hillier terrain, and it was considerably more difficult, but it still wasn't that hard. (Every time you go up a hill, it means you get to ride down, which takes no exertion whatsoever.) 

My initial observations are that biking is funner than running. But I think running is safer (it's slower, you're not sharing the same space with cars, it's easier to get out of the way), and it's better exercise (it's harder, and you still have to exercise going down hill). I need to treat biking as a supplement to running, not as a replacement. My heels were sufficiently healed on Saturday to do my new standard winter run, eleven miles round trip to and from the Bountiful Temple.

This week I also had that moment when you read a Mormon blog and the professional historian doesn't know the answer to a question, but you just happen to know it.

Some friends this week asked me if I was going to blog about my rant about Groundhog Day, so here it is. Groundhog Day is fake, you know. It's silly, of course, to think that an animal seeing its shadow changes the season. Also, they are saying that either winter ends in six weeks (the end of astronomical winter), or it ends in early February. But when you think of winter ending, you think of the weather, and if the weather is your definition of winter, then meteorological winter ends on March 1, not March 20. The March 20 "first day of spring" only relates to the length of days, not the weather. But the worst part of Groundhog Day is that Punxsutawney Phil's "decision" is predetermined beforehand. They don't wait to see if he sees his shadow, or even say "it's sunny, so let's assume he sees his shadow." No, they decide it beforehand. Groundhog Day is literally faker than fake.

I don't care that it exists. I mean, we have all sorts of strange holidays and traditions, and it comes from German folklore, and there's a place for that. What gets me, though, is that people think it's actually a big deal. When my niece was in first grade, I remember her saying her favorite February holidays were Valentine's Day and Groundhog Day. Now really, what is there for a first-grader to like about Groundhog Day? Candy? Nope. Music? Nope. Presents? N-O. A day off from school? Not likely. Kids think it's a real holiday only because other people tell them it is.

As far as I'm concerned, Groundhog Day is only a Pennsylvanian regional holiday. And there are lots of regional holidays that are more legitimate, important, and meaningful than Groundhog Day: Arbor Day (Nebraska), Pioneer Day (Utah), Patriots' Day (Massachusetts), Mardi Gras (Louisiana), and more. Yet there are plenty of calendars that include Groundhog Day but none of the others. It makes me madder than it probably should. If you're going to include this garbage Groundhog Day, you need to include the others. 

OK, I'm done.