Friends, mules, countrymen, lend me your ears.

I have been actively crossing things off of my bucket list. This week it was Spiral Jetty!

Um, I don't really know what to say about it. I had the day off on Thursday, so after my mom and sister got off of work, we picked up my niece and all drove up to Box Elder County to see the spiral. It was fifteen miles past Golden Spike on a gravel road.

It was smaller than I expected, but I was glad, because it meant I could see all of it. I worried it would be much larger and it would be hard to tell what it was.

I ran up a nearby hill for a better view.

 I was glad it was dried out so I could walk on it. I followed it the entire spiral.

An olivine-rich basalt rock!

 Though it was mostly dry, there were a few salty puddles. I ate a piece of the salt. It was salty.

I like the spiral design on the interpretive sign.

I accidentally stepped in a salty puddle. Good thing I retired these running shoes!

Then we ate dinner in Brigham City, because I've never been there, and it would be nice to visit all the county seats.

The rest of the week wasn't super eventful. Except that mulesears are out in full abundance. Last week I said, "Give it a week or two, and this meadow will be jaw-droppingly fabulous." And I was absolutely right.

I think this is Wasatch penstemon.

I couldn't get away from mulesears if I wanted to.

Of course, we can't forget our old friend Sticky Geranium.

Such beauty from arrowleaf balsamroot, common paintbrush, and penstemon. I can't even.

Arrowleaf balsamroot on the left and mulesears on the right. 🎵"But they're cousins, identical cousins all the way! One pair of matching bookends, different as night and day."🎶

Can something this pretty really be a noxious weed?

It sure was nice of all those mules to donate their ears to the foothills.

I don't really get a Memorial Day weekend, since I have to work. It will be the first time I have ever worked on Memorial Day. But it should be a fun day. This is one of my favorite weekends of the year (after Thanksgiving, of course).

Flowers and kittens🌼😻

I had some plans to go see some great new trails and places this week, but various circumstances prevented that from happening.

However, I did go to BYU on Thursday for an interview. It's a little strange to walk on campus and realize that my most recent memory there as a student was more than four years ago, and some memories go back eight years. I would say it was my first time there with a beard, but that's not true: I sported a beard for my two-week field studies class in 2013, and I had one a couple weeks after I graduated (but still lived in Provo). I stopped at the Provo City Center Temple, my first time there (though I did attend a concert in the Provo Tabernacle in 2010).

Provo certainly isn't that exotic, but the beauty of May can make me think, "Am I still in Utah?!" Even if I'm in my regular places.

This is along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail in North Salt Lake before the radio towers. There's an entire field of Palmer's penstemon. This flower is stunning not only for the way it covers a meadow, but also for the strong, lovely fragrance wafting in the air.

 It's especially stunning when arrowleaf balsamroot mixes with it.

Purple Palmer's penstemon and yellow yarrowleaf yalsamroot.

 There are frequently people taking engagement or family pictures along the trail, and on this evening I counted at least six groups. It was a lovely evening for it. One of my pet peeves with that is when the photographer is on one side of the trail, and the couple is on the other side. Why don't you both get on the same side, then people won't be cutting through? There was none of that this time, but there was one photog taking pictures of the couple walking along the trail, and she asked me and a hiker to hold on while she took her shots. I'll admit I was annoyed.

Even ugly vacant lots are lovely in May.

At work, I have seen a feral black cat on a few occasions. This week, some other employees told me that the cat had three kittens. You all know how I feel about cats, so I had to take a look. They thought the kittens might be half bobcat, but that seems like a stretch to me. Usually two of the kittens hang out with their mom, while a third hides in the shrubs, but I think it's a different kitten hiding each time I've looked. It was tempting to pick one up, but I didn't want to terrify them; they were already hissing at me. There's something hilariously adorable about a tiny kitten trying to be ferocious.

You can see three sets of eyes in this picture.

One of my favorite trails when I don't have much time is the local Woodbriar Trail, because it's very steep, so it's good exercise in a short amount of time. It's less popular, but it is stunningly beautiful. It has its share of arrowleaf balsamroot now,

 as well as western waterleaf,  tufted evening primrose, and Utah sweetpea.

 Arrowleaf balsamroot's doppelganger, mulesears, are starting to make their appearance. Give it a week or two, and this meadow will be jaw-droppingly fabulous.

On Friday night, I ran up to my old standby of North Canyon. It's been a while since I've done an evening run there, and it was actually the first time I've ever made it all the way to Rudy's Flat in the evening. It had its share of Oregon grape,

 another look-alike to arrowleaf balsamroot that I haven't identified,

 arrowleaf balsamroot itself,

 blossoming trees I haven't identified,

 smallflower woodlandstar,

Sorry for the bluriness.

 caterpillars,

Morning runs are more convenient, but evening runs are more beautiful.

 mountain bluebell,

 and heartleaf arnica.

These are blossoms on an apple tree at the actual trailhead (not the dirt road).

I have less than two weeks left in May, so I hope to enjoy more of it while I have it.

Train and tri

May hasn't been my favorite month, mostly because there aren't any major holidays. But I've increasingly come to realize how amazing it is.

Everything is in bloom. You have longleaf phlox,

 arrowleaf balsamroot,

 tufted evening primrose,

These are some of the most gorgeous wildflowers out there.

and Utah sweetpea.

At work (ICYMI: This Is the Place Heritage Park) this week, I had to teach field trip classes in the print shop. It was the first time I had done so. It was OK. I could have done better, but I don't have to be perfect my first time.

On Wednesday, I was stationed in the telegraph office when a guest mentioned he had seen a snake nearby. It's our policy to stay with the snake until someone can come and remove it, but my boss said it wasn't poisonous, so not to worry, because everyone was too busy getting ready for Train Day.

What is Train Day, you ask? It marks the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad on May 10, 1869. I've thought that there are three possible days that could be Utah's state holiday: Pioneer Day (July 24, though July 22 would also be a perfectly acceptable date, perhaps even better), Train Day, or Statehood Day (January 4). It's hard to think of a worse date for a holiday than January 4, so forget that. May 10 is a wonderful day for a holiday, but it's more of a nationally important holiday, not just Utah, so Pioneer Day really is the best option.

But TITP still held a big event. Admission was discounted, and the park was open until 8 p.m., which meant a long day for me. They had reenactments of the driving of the golden spike, and they shot the cannon (a nineteenth-century means of celebration).

 There were interesting folks there that day. There was one man who wore a hat with dog ears on it, and he was wearing a large dog collar with a chain that went down his shirt. He walked into the bank (where I was working) and said "Salutations!" He was excited about everything, like a dog is.

In the bank, kids bring me the "gold" (pyrite) they pan for, and I measure it with an old-fashioned scale. Then we have a chart that shows what gold was worth in 1868. But I find that if I tell some kid, "This much gold was worth three dollars in the 1860s," it doesn't mean anything to them. It doesn't mean anything to me. So I decided to make a chart showing what gold is worth today; I worked on it while no one was in the bank. My boss seemed impressed and wanted to ask someone else to type it up so it would be easier to read.

On Friday, I observed field trips in the saddle shop, where they talk about leather. My coworker was showing leather from different animals and having the kids (fourth grade, I think) guess what they were. When he showed pig, he said, "Some of you might have had this for breakfast," and one said, "Pancakes!" When he showed the kangaroo, he asked, "What is the land down under?" and a girl said, "Sewage!" But after the field trips, they sent us home early because of the rain.

I didn't work on Saturday because I had a triathlon! Last year, I learned about the South Davis Rec Center's Splash-N-Sprint triathlon, where they do a sprint division and a novice division. I thought, "Wow, I could totally do the novice distance. I might have to do this."

But this year, when I looked at it again, and after I had been doing more recreational biking, I thought, "Wow, I could totally do the sprint distance, as long as I practice swimming." So, while I was unemployed, I got a pool pass and made it to the rec center, especially when the weather was bad.

I did not sleep well Friday night. I never, ever sleep well before a race, and I always have weird dreams about it. This time I dreamed that I had gone to Scotland for the race, and I was staying in a weird resort up a steep hill.

Anyway, after a poor night's sleep, I made it to the rec center and got my packet. My race number was #319, "Ye Elders of Israel."

🎶"Ye elders of Israel, come race now with me..."🎵

The swimming was first, and it was 350 yards, or 14 laps. A friend had told me that the swimming was not fun, because there were tons of people in the pool. But I actually found all the people to make it exhilarating and motivating. My swim time was 10:28, which isn't great. But that includes the time it took to go from the pool to the transition area, and during my practice, I never did that distance in less than 10:30, so I blew my regular speed out of the water. (Get it? Pool? Water?)

Then it was time for the bike, which was 12 miles. It was drizzling when I got out of the pool, but I was already wet and refreshed, so I didn't feel like wearing the jacket I had brought. The bike didn't go so well, since I have a mountain bike and not a road bike--not because I'm a mountain biker, but because I'm a non-biker. (It's a long, boring story why I have a mountain bike.) I got passed left and right. (Well, actually, I only got passed on the left.) It began raining harder during the biking, and my hands got frozen. By the time I started my run, I could barely move them. 

I did wear gloves for the run, which was about three and a quarter miles. That's a short run for me, so no big deal. I passed many people, including those who passed me during the biking. I ran faster than I usually do, mostly because I usually run on hills, and this was flat. It was a little hard for me to see, due to all the rain on my glasses. I almost missed my parents cheering for me near the finish line.

My overall finish was 170/241. I got 16/17 for my age division. Not great, but I mostly attribute it to the mountain bike. (Also, my derailleur doesn't quite work, even though I just got my bike "fixed." I'll have to go back.) I didn't do great on the swimming either, but again, it was way faster than I have ever done. But my run was 55/245, so top quartile. I'm good with that.

Overall, it was a really fun experience. I wondered if it didn't really count as a worthwhile triathlon, but I know that some of the people who did it are serious athletes. If they did it, it can't be that plebeian, right? I haven't yet committed to doing another one--but it's more likely that I will than that I won't.

In March, I was released as executive secretary in my YSA ward, and last month I was called as an elders quorum instructor. I haven't had a teaching calling since nursery in 2007. Today was my first lesson, based on President Nelson's talk "Ministering with the Power and Authority of God." I led discussions about how you serve, not where you serve; priesthood blessings versus prayers; and ministering as a principle instead of as a program. At the end, I did an activity to put the home teaching/ministering shift into a larger context of continuing revelation and asked people to name off examples of discontinued programs and practices in the Church. Our second counselor said, "Boy Scouts"--and then followed it with, "[Discontinuing it was] the best Mother's Day gift ever given." This apostate scout agrees.

Seis de Mayo

This week wasn't super eventful. I've just been settling into my new job.

My most common station this week was the bank, where I tell people about gold, pretending to know more than I actually do. At one point, a mom came in with her kids and said, "Eureka!" Her son, who can't have been older than three, said something like, "If you say eureka, it means it's yours, but if you say oureka, it means it's ours." I found his perception of the morphemes hilarious and adorable.

It was also on my bucket list to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. This is a holiday that one day could become as big as St. Patrick's Day and make it onto my official holiday canon, but it hasn't reached that threshold yet.

Sadly, the first thing I think of when I think of Mexico is drug cartels. I have not one fraction of one iota of sympathy for people who make or sell illegal drugs, because they are making money off of killing people and ruining lives. I could go into detail on what I wish happens to them, but I will forbear, lest you think I'm a violent person.

It is a shame that that's what I think of, because it is a beautiful culture. I think Mexican is my favorite form of national cuisine. I like the colorful decorations, the mariachis, the sombreros, the calaveras.

Of course, it's sometimes hard to know when something crosses the line between fond appreciation and degrading stereotypes. Then there's the current politically correct fad of "cultural appropriation," where it seems we have to stick absolutely to our own culture or we're racist. (I think sticking with our own culture will more likely make us more racist, but that's not what this post is about.)

I try to imagine how I would feel if my culture were used in another country. If, say, South Africa were to celebrate the Fourth of July with cowboy hats and fried chicken, I doubt I would be offended, though I might be a little amused. I've been to Taiwan, and they love American pop culture, and I'm fine with that.

Anyway, my celebrations this week included eating burritos, tacos, nachos, churros, empanadas, and tres leches cake; watching Nacho Libre, The Book of Life, and Coco; and listening to the Spanish AM radio station. I did take four years of Spanish in high school, but I only got a 2 on the AP test. :/

I am perfectly aware that Cinco de Mayo is a bigger holiday in the United States than it is in Mexico. But to me, that gives me more reason to observe it, since I am an American, not a Mexican. I like the idea that we Americans can appreciate different cultures. We are a big melting pot where everyone is welcome.

Or at least we used to be.

Seven years later

Today is the seventh anniversary of this blog, and every year I like to commemorate the event by looking back at some of my posts.

Last year, the post focused on entries that used song lyrics as the title. (Since that time, I could add the following posts to the list: Shooting Fireworks like It's the Fourth of July; Welcome to New York; The applause, applause, applause; Wonderful Christmastime; It was a very good year; Happy Easter to You!; Where the buffalo roam, where the people and antelope play.)

This year, I'm going to highlight some of the most unusual, most creative, or best titles I've come up with over the last seven years. That doesn't necessarily mean the content is the best, but I like the title.
If I weren't a muggle, none of this would have happened.
A pillowcase full of trick-or-treat memories.
The purple-people-eater basketball coach was centuries too early.
Eight votes is seven too many
Valentine's Day: Winter's Halloween
One Weird Dude
What a weirdo.
A llama? He's supposed to be studying!
You inky!
It Was a Short Summer, Charlie Brown
How can you not like fall?
A tarantula story
Death Valley Days
Lucky; or, a Drinking Fountain Epiphany
Not terribly much badder
A Prescriptive Addiction: How I Became a Descriptivist when I Became an Editor

A Grand Deluge

Oh, it was THAT week.

Italian scorpions doing finances in the dark refrigerator

The Lost Weekend

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre

#ProvoRocks

Three hundred and ninety-nine and sixty

Don't Do Drugs, and other stories

Red, white, and blue, especially red and white.

Secondhand wildfire smoke

It snew a little.

A most unusual Thanksgiving.

What kind of person am I? Actually, I'd rather talk about vegetables.

Because (a) it was Earth Day and (b) it was a New Year's resolution.

Why do people think I like nerdy things?

Get a designated driver, or kindly die.

Unduly concerned

Wild thimbleberries

Jimmy Kitty Live!

Trick or Treat bucket...list

Witnessing Thanksgiving and Ruining Christmas (I don't really like these titles individually, but I like that I gave these names right next to each other without realizing it)

What about the egg house? (I need to give an explanation on this, since I didn't give a full one in the post. I was telling my nephew Franklin that his younger brother, Nathaniel, used to claim to have multiple houses made of various materials: Jello, candy, etc. Then Franklin asked, "What about the egg house?" Then he kept saying it over and over.)

Love Bath Daredevil Dungeon

Anachronistic

You don't have to push a handcart, leave your family dear, or walk a thousand miles or more to be a pioneer.

All you have to do is get a job at This Is the Place Heritage Park. Which is exactly what I did.

As I've been vigorously applying for editing jobs, I have been applying for a few other jobs as well. Recently I visited This Is the Place, and since I had visited their Facebook page, their ads began showing up in my feed.

In the past, I had thought that it would be a fun place to work, but I figured you'd have to be really lucky and/or really smart to get a job there.

Turns out the opposite is true. When I applied for the position, I was surprised that they didn't ask for a resume or even work history, besides a vague question asking about experience working with the public. When I interviewed, they were impressed and said I was the kind of person they wanted working there. They called me an academic. I'm overqualified for the position.

Yet as I thought about it after the interview, I couldn't think of a compelling reason not to take the job. It doesn't pay well. But it pays better than no job. It doesn't give me experience in editing. But neither does doing nothing. I will lose all my free time. It's not like I've been doing amazing things with my free time. I'm shy and socially awkward. This is an opportunity to strengthen my weaknesses. Additionally, this might lead to something unexpected, and I think it helps to have a larger skill set. I'll still be looking for jobs (on a more limited scale), but this will be a fun (hopefully) placeholder in the meantime.

I started work on Tuesday and received quasi-nineteenth-century clothes to wear. (So far they haven't said anything to me about my Fitbit watch.) There are different teams in the park, and I'm on the business team, which includes the telegraph office, the drugstore, the Benjamin F. Johnson saddlery, the print shop, the bank, the barber shop, and the hospital. So far I feel most comfortable in the Deseret News print shop, since I'm familiar with 1850s Utah and publishing. I actually wrote a book chapter about Benjamin Johnson, but I know nothing about saddles and leather, so that building is less comfortable to me. This week I think I will primarily be in the bank.

Anyway, I'm not sure how much is appropriate to share here, because I know sometimes employers don't like having work stuff posted, and who knows who might see this blog. Basically I sit in my assigned building and talk to people when they come in. Some buildings also have kids come in for field trips. If you want any more details, you can ask me in person.

After Earth Day last week, I also wanted to observe Arbor Day. I wanted to transplant a cherry sapling from my sister's yard, but apparently my dad likes grass more than he likes cherries, so he forbade it (even though you can't eat grass). So instead I decided to pull noxious weeds from the Wild Rose Trail.

I'm not sure what's going on in this picture. Somehow my glove got in the way.

For years I have noticed these interesting plants along the trail, but my wildflower books didn't list them. Just this month (maybe last month), I found out what they are. They're not wildflowers at all, but an invasive species called myrtle spurge. They started out in gardens and spread to the foothills. Not only do they crowd out native plants, they are toxic to animals. I wore pants, long sleeves, and gloves, but I did end up with a rash on my wrist.

I threw away five large armfuls of the stuff. (I did leave some of the pulled plants on the hillside, but at least it's dead.) Many people asked me what I was doing and were grateful when I told them. One woman even recognized that I was "purging the spurge," but she said "spurge the purge." I got the idea because apparently there's an Eagle Scout project to get rid of it on Saturday, but I will be working. One woman said she might go to it when I told her what I was doing. There is still an entire hillside covered in the plant, but hopefully the scout's group can get most of it. I have devoted the month of June to eradicating goathead plants, but maybe May should be devoted to eradicating spurge?

I spent the rest of the evening watching a holiday classic and buying a song.

"Look at my pitcher's mound! It's got a tree on it! I can't pitch from there!"

Next stop: Cinco de Mayo!

Love Bath Daredevil Dungeon

As I was approaching my twenty-ninth birthday last year, I compiled a bucket list of things to do before I turn thirty. The list has seventy items on it, but I only have to do thirty of them.

One of the items on the list is a very hipster thing: get a record player. Now, I put this on the list not because I'm a hipster, or because I'm some kind of music snob, but rather because it might be a fun, random thing to do.

As I began thinking about whether I wanted to get a record player, it came up in conversation that my dad still had his old record player stored underneath our stairs.

So, rather than buy a new record player, I pulled out a bunch of our boxes of Christmas decorations so I could access the old one.

We don't often go that deep into our Cupboard under the Stairs, so I was amused at some of the things I found under there. Written on the stairs themselves was child graffiti, including "Love Bath Dare Devil Dungen [sic]." (It might have been "Love Bat's.")

There were hearts that said "Tammy + Dave R." and "Jennifer + Troy." I don't know who any of these people are, so this graffiti is most certainly from before we moved in in 1991. (I do have a cousin named Tammy, but I doubt it's her.)

There were some bits of trash that did belong to us: a MacFrugal's receipt from December 1, 1994,

MacFrugal's became Big Lots! and was next to Kmart. Which is now Smith's.

 a piece of a comics page from December 20, 1992,

This strip was used in the 2002 special Charlie Brown's Christmas Tales.

 and a Thanksgiving feather of things my brother was thankful for in elementary school.

"Plants to get oxegen from." Of course my scientist brother would say that.

(I put all these antiques in the recycling bin. Sorry.)

Then I pulled out the record player, and my dad helped me get it set up and working. My parents have conflicting opinions on how old it is, but it is certainly more than thirty years old, possibly more than forty.

I got out my dad's old records from the garage. He told me that most of them weren't very good because he bought them for cheap, but there were a few I recognized. I was excited to see Abbey Road in there, but it was a different record inside the sleeve; my dad says his siblings misplaced it. So the first record I heard on this record player was Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. (I have faint memories of listening to records as a small child, but it was on a different player.) It was a little strange to realize I had heard some of the songs before, yet here I was listening to them in their original medium.

I wasn't super impressed. But I figured that in order to judge it fairly, I had to get an album I was familiar with.

So on Thursday I stopped at Graywhale Entertainment to buy my first record. I wanted Lady Gaga's Joanne, but it was out of stock. But I was shocked and delighted that they had Kites Are Fun by the Free Design, a charming album of 1960s sunshine pop I found (and bought digitally) last year. They rereleased the album for its fiftieth anniversary. 

I love the music, but the album art is terrible.

I will admit, it did have a nicer sound to it than I was accustomed to. But that might have been because I was using real (but old) speakers, instead of just my computer's speakers or my Amazon Echo.

Then it turned out that yesterday (April 21) was Record Store Day, so I decided to go to a different Graywhale to get another record. I got the soundtrack to Mad Monster Party?, which I actually bought used on CD on eBay four years ago. (I spent way too much on the CD, so the new vinyl was actually cheaper, especially since it was on sale.)

This one didn't sound as nice; maybe because it was mono instead of stereo?

Anyway, here is my verdict:

Dear hipsters: There is a reason records died out. You can only listen to them in one place. You have to flip the record over halfway through the album. You cannot rip digital copies to your computer to listen to anywhere, like you can with CDs. They are more expensive than downloads or CDs. You tell me that you love the crackling and the skipping, but you cannot stand there and tell me music sounds better when it sounds worse. You have to find a place to put the player.

Nevertheless, it is fun to open a record sleeve and read the liner notes, and you can fiddle with speed. Still, I don't think it's really worth it. But I will experiment with keeping the record player out for a time, and I need to listen to all of my dad's collection before I buy more of my own. I just thought it would be a fun thing to try.

I also had an interview in Park City this week (for a job I won't take). Last year a friend told me about a sock store there and told me I had to go. So I did. It was super expensive. But I had to buy five new pairs of holiday socks. (I even had to hold back. The selection was impressive. Just costly.)

I now have five pairs of Thanksgiving socks. Six if you count the pumpkins that also work for Halloween.

Lower priority items on my bucket list are to visit every county seat and every state park, so while I was in Summit County, I went to Coalville and Echo Reservoir, Utah's newest state park. (The part run by state parks wasn't open, but I still count it.)

Other items on my bucket list were to pick up litter and to celebrate Earth Day. The other day I did a short run on the lower, inferior portion of the Wild Rose Trail, which goes between houses and by NSL's landslide. I was amazed at the amount of trash on that lesser-used portion, so I decided to pick up litter there. (My guess is most of it came from blown-over trash cans.) I took one kitchen trash bag with me and filled it up in no time. But I remembered that I had seen an identical trash bag lying on the ground as litter, so I picked it up and filled it as well.

I brought it home and divided it into recycling and trash; most of it was recyclable. There's still a lot of trash there, but there's less than there was.

I only have to do eight more things on my list, and I still have five months. But my free time will be reduced again, as my unemployed days will be coming to an end. More information to come.