A hodgepodge of thoughts

On Monday, my ward went to the Salt Lake City Cemetery to hear stories about various people buried there. Of course, I have a career advantage to knowing about the people. I tried not to seem too braggartly (I just made that a word) and tried not to destroy the lessons, so I didn't blab all about Orson Pratt. I may have accidentally ruined the lesson, though, when we got to James E. Talmage's tombstone.

I had previously read about his tombstone, how it had a piece of limestone in the granite, and I thought, "Yeah right." And indeed, when I saw it, I recognized that the featured xenolith was not in fact limestone but was an igneous inclusion. Our second counselor asked if anyone knew the story of the tombstone, and I went all off on the geologic history of the granite (using what I learned in my field studies class four years ago), and I explained the theory behind the darker inclusion. Then the counselor said that the origin of the dark part was unknown to science--right after I had explained it. I don't think he had planned on me. But I can totally understand why the scientists of Talmage's day thought it was a limestone inclusion, because it does resemble the Paleozoic dolostone of Little Cottonwood Canyon.

On Wednesday, I was super happy it snowed. For those who don't know, I enjoy unseasonable snow (though I like it less than I used to), and I'm hoping for a year when I see it snow in nine out of twelve months. My criteria is that (1) I have to see snow falling and (2) I have to see snow on the ground. I haven't personally seen May snow since 2011. I know we had some snow here on May 1, 2013, and Cedar City got dumped on on Mother's Day three years ago, but I wasn't there, so it doesn't count. So I was glad to see it this year! Now it just has to snow in either June or September (the tough ones) and then October, November, and December. It's actually been several years since I've seen October snow.

Yesterday (Saturday), I headed out for my weekly long trail run. I decided to go to Mueller Park (a classic standby). When I got to Elephant Rock, I decided to actually go to the rock itself. I've been up there multiple times but had never gone to the rock. I didn't get on top of it, because I'm not good at climbing (and I was still on the running clock), but I went to it. All this time I had assumed it was conglomerate, but it turns out it's granitic. But that makes sense, as I've noticed lots of gneiss on the surrounding trails.

 I went a little past the rock on trail, which I have often done. I had a time I wanted to turn around. But I decided I had the time and energy to go farther, so I did. I usually go to Rudy's Flat via North Canyon, but this time I went to Rudy's via Mueller Park. It was very wet, what with all the melting snow. But I felt accomplished once I got there, because that was the long way up.

When I got to the bottom of the trail, I had gone twelve miles. Not only is that my longest trail run to date, it's also my longest run, period. I was exhausted.

After running so much, I had to make a hearty meal of watercress soup and asparagus. (Just kidding, I had spring vegetable burgers earlier in the day.)

The watercress soup is one of those meals where I will dread the leftovers more each time.

After this busy day, I finally got around to watching The BFG, which I had to see, because I was a huge Roald Dahl fan. (I feel so silly talking about movies on here.) I rarely watch movies, because I think they're generally a waste of time, and I can only justify idly sitting there if I turn on the foreign language subtitles so at least I'm learning something. The ending disappointed me. <SPOILERS> In the end of the book, the bad giants are dropped in a giant hole. Some unruly drunkards get too close and get eaten. At the beginning of the movie, there were some unruly drunkards. I thought they might be the ones to get eaten. But instead the giants got transferred to some mysterious island, and that part of the book never happened. Lame. Roald Dahl instilled in me a desire for people to face horrendous consequences for their horrendous decisions. </end spoilers>

On an unrelated note, I was reading an article today about the Barnum & Bailey/Ringling Bros. circus closing. In all my life, I've never been to a circus. I'm trying to decide whether I should be sad about that. On one hand, I missed my opportunity at being part of a historic cultural phenomenon. On the other hand, it shows I'm part of another historic cultural phenomenon--the culture that cares nothing about circuses and thereby sent circuses to their grave. I don't know whether I never went to a circus because they're simply not that interesting to modern audiences...or because I never got out much.