We don't have a camera.

Recently, we have received many requests for photos--photos of Mississippi, of ourselves, and, frankly, I'm flattered. I really appreciate it that people take an interest in our lives. Thank you!

Unfortunately, our camera isn't working. Thus, we would ask for your patience, since it'll be a while before we get another one.

In the meantime, we'll do our best to provide you with catchy stock photography and clip art.

Again, I'm flattered, and I appreciate your understanding.

Funny Conversation

Jeff's conversation at Starbucks, as he bought an apple fritter:

Cashier: "Hey, does that thing keep you warm?"
Jeff: (Realizing that he means my sweater) "Uh, yeah, I guess."
Cashier: "Hmm. Yeah. I've been thinking about getting me one of those."

Please Help Our Friends Who Are Adopting Kids from Ethiopia

I just found out that a super neat couple from our ward here in Hattiesburg is planning to adopt two children from Ethiopia. Of course, adoption (especially international adoption), is expensive, so they're doing various things to raise money for their new family. Melissa has opened up an Etsy shop An Artist's Garden to sell cute little handmade hair pins. I had a look, and the hair pins would be darling for girls of all ages.

Please consider Roger and Melissa as you think of upcoming Christmas presents or just for the fun of it, and if you feel so inclined, please pass the word around on your own blogs. Their Etsy shop page above links to another blog which will follow their progress though the adoption process.

Thanks for your support!

Shopping, or the Saga of the Suit

Do y'all know how much I hate shopping--especially for clothes? Clothes shopping is only really fun if it's easy to find things in your size and price range. I remember being jealous of a college roommate because she used to walk into a store, go straight to the clearance rack, and voila!--everything fit her, and the total bill was less than $30.

Jeff is actually an excellent clothes-picker-outer. He goes to a store without me, makes friends with the sales lady/ladies, and ten to twenty minutes later he's out the door. And the stuff he buys always fits me and looks good to boot! Maybe shopping for my clothes should become one of his household duties. Actually, another reason why he is so good at it is that he doesn't worry as much about price as I do. Last night he said to me, "Melanie, you are like a model, and only top designers make clothes for models' body shapes, so we just have to get used to paying more for your clothes. Think of it as a good investment." While he's saying this, I'm thinking, "These people are trying to rip me off."

Back to the suit...several years ago, the night before I was to interview for the assistant manager position at the library, I was freaking out because I didn't think I had anything to wear. I had bought a new sweater at the store earlier that day, and though I liked it, it wasn't quite right; however, there wasn't much else to do, so I ended up wearing it the next day. About twenty minutes before my interview, I was told I had a visitor. I left the reference desk, walked to the staff room, and there was Jeff holding a Dillard's bag. "I bought you a suit. Go try it on. Here are several of your blouses to see which one will work best with it." Can y'all guess my reaction? I was worried about how much it had cost, and was pretty sure it was VERY expensive since Jeff just kept saying, "Now don't you worry about that."

So I tried the suit on. It fit me perfectly. In the meantime, Jeff had, true to form, made friends with my co-workers and had pulled a few of them in for their opinion about which ensemble worked best. It was very sweet, yet somewhat embarrassing all at the same time.

Anyway, to make a long story short, when my boss told me I got the job she joked, "Now you be sure to tell Jeff that the suit was the tipping point." Everyone loves Jeff. How can you help NOT liking him?



Since I have an interview this afternoon, last night Jeff wanted to go shopping to find me the perfect/permanent blouse for the suit since I had gotten rid of the one I'd used before. I didn't want to go. It was already 8 p.m., and I thought we didn't have enough time. "No problem--a proverbial piece of cake for people like us," he replied. So history repeated itself. I browsed, disgusted, while he found the sales lady (I don't like to talk to sales ladies), and within minutes I was in the dressing room. Every time I came out to model I had to yell for Jeff, because, being the friendly/gregarious person that he is, he was around the corner chatting with the sales ladies. (Apparently to get the conversation rolling he said, "She's with me." The lady didn't understand his California-speak and queried, "She's angry?" "No, I mean she is with me. She is my wife.") Then we found a necklace, he paid for it while I dressed, and we were out the door before closing time.

Sorry this was such a long post, but I was just reflecting on what a great husband I have. I always tell him, "I feel sorry for all those other women in the world because there's only one of you. They have to settle for second best."

Broken Toe

Jeff caught his little toe on the island in the kitchen on Saturday night. I was reading in the bedroom when I heard a wail and a thump, so I came running (a disadvantage of having a bigger apartment is that it takes longer to get places--I have to run down a big hall--we've never had a hall before). I found Jeff on the ground and in a lot of pain. I acted as the Lamaze coach for awhile (breathe in, 1-2-3, now out) to prevent him from hyperventilating. He went to the campus clinic yesterday (where, by the way, he and the doctor have become good friends and are on a first name basis. Jeff even mentioned he'd like to just "hang out" with the doc). It turns out he broke the biggest bone in his little toe and dislocated it in two places. He has an awesome bruise--dark, purplish-red wrapping around half of the toe and a purple number extending halfway up his foot. I've always said that if I have to be in pain I'd rather have something to show for it!

Natchez

Yesterday I went to Natchez, MS, which is about three hours to the west of us on the Mississippi/Louisiana border, for the Mississippi Library Association Conference. After being at the conference for a few hours, I explored the town and just fell in love with it. It kind of reminded me of a southern Hannibal, Missouri if any of you have ever been there. Natchez is situated on the east bank of the Mississippi River, and you can see Louisiana on the other side. In fact, I drove over the bridge into Vidalia, LA, and then turned around and came right back (it was my first time in Louisiana). I took a stroll along the river, walked the streets and checked out the mansions all the while thinking, "I wish Jeff were here. He would love this." I think it might be fun to go in the spring for his birthday.

Natchez is a very old city and at different times has been under French, British, and Spanish rule. Natchez was also the first capital of the Mississippi Territory.
I wanted to see an antebellum mansion, so I randomly picked one of the houses to tour. It turns out the house I toured on Ellicott Hill is perhaps the oldest mansion in town and is decorated to reflect about the year 1798. The American flag was first raised on Ellicott Hill in 1797 under orders from President George Washington as a sign to the Spanish to skeedaddle.



I got a private tour of the house, and it was absolutely fascinating. I learned that in that time period bed linens and doors were a sign of wealth. Every room in the house had a door to the outside. Apparently doors indicated wealth because door frames were an item that could be taxed. I also saw lots of household tools I hadn't come across before--the most interesting being a candle that could be hooked to the back of a chair or stuck into a wall and used as a reading light. The house also had two original deathbed paintings from the 1600s. I asked if the paintings had age/smoke damage as they seemed so dark, but the guide informed me that they were supposed to be dark and the subjects pale and hidden in the shadows since they were near death. Duh!

Early Literacy Websites

Scooter has expressed some interest in the websites I mentioned, so here they are:

Zero to Three
Six Skills
Research

These websites are just the tip of the iceberg. If you have any questions, I'm happy to answer them.

I've been published

No, not Jeff this time. Me. An article came out in the local paper the other day that really struck a chord with me. It was all about the sad state of education in Hattiesburg. I got all riled up and decided to add a comment to the article. I was quite pleased with my response, so you can imagine my disappointment when I realized the length was very much over the number of characters allowed. So I decided to write letter to the editor.

Here it is:
http://www.hattiesburgamerican.com/article/20081022/OPINION03/810220333/1014/OPINION

However, they edited my piece to suit their purposes, and they took off a very good part, which was my whole point and purpose of writing the article. At the end, I had given three websites that went into more detail about the six early literacy skills and cited the research to which I was referring. Oh well, so far I've had one positive comment posted. Let's see if I can create a controversy.

Fall Break, Day Two, Three, & Four

We have absolutely LOVED our fall break! It was exactly what we needed to relax! Here are some of the highlights from the past few days:

Hattiesburg Zoo: Yes, Hattiesburg, a city of only 60,000, has its own zoo. It is charming. We went to the zoo Friday afternoon at about 4 p.m., and, as has been our past experience with nearly everything we do, the zoo was just closing. Jeff tried to talk the lady into letting us in, but it wasn't to be. We decided, instead, to walk around the perimeter of the zoo, following the zoo train route, to see if we could peek in and see anything. We had a great time--zebras, owls, a moose-look-a-like animal, prairie dogs, swans, peacocks--all for free.

We were so impressed we decided to go back on Saturday. It was small but quaint, and all decked out for Halloween. So we hung out with the animals (and lots of other people this time!) with X-Files type music playing in the background. We made a connection to several of the animals, and a few of them even struck my fancy enough that I gave them names. Let's see, we had Orson Lemur, Norman Tapir, James Jaguar, and Felix Alligator. We sat and watched the spotted jaguar pace back and forth about three feet away from us for about 15 minutes. He was absolutely amazing to watch. I asked Jeff if he would like to name the Jaguar. "Oh, I don't know", he answered. "How about Spot?" "Uh...no," I quickly replied, "I don't think so. His name is James." Spot is a dog's name, and only James was a name worthy of this beautiful creature.



We discovered a new restaurant this weekend too. It's called the Spicy Pickle. Some of you may be thinking, "How are they going out to eat when they don't have any money?" Well, we signed up for the frequent diners' card, and they'll be sending us a coupon for a free meal soon, and then we also get a free meal on our birthday (mine is only a few weeks away).

Oh, and one more thing, the weather here right now is absolutely delicious! Warm, bright, sunny, with an ever-so-slight cool breeze. We hate to brag, but I must admit we were feeling lots of Mississippi love when we heard about the five inches of snow Utah got last weekend. We heard we'll still need the ice scraper for the car during the winter with all the moisture in the air, but we're thinking it might also be a good idea to invest in a squeegee (yes, that's how you spell it), for all of those famous misty Mississippi mornings.

Kudzu

Some of you may have noticed the new look of our blog. We picked this particular background with the vines in honor of southern kudzu.



On the right-hand side of the blog, we've also added listings of books we're currently reading or have read recently.

A picture

Here I am with my little burro friend, Streak (I am the one in the bottom left corner, just in case anyone was confused). As you know, this is the best we can do at the moment given our camera situation. This will probably be our last effort scanning my cell phone, but at least it will give you an idea. Doesn't it take you back to the times you looked at family pictures on the good ol' slide projector?

And just to correct my husband, the contraption was called the "Corn Pool," but we never did find it. Here's a picture of the corn pool from the farm's website and also a glimpse of the pumpkin/peanut wagon. I think the corn pool may have been just what we needed to relieve our stress, but alas... By the way, we just checked the farm's website this morning, and they had apparently updated it since we visited yesterday to let everyone know that the only vegetable available was peanuts. It seems that our exploits help everyone remember they need to update their website.





Actually, I thought it quite quaint if we'd have had kids with us or something, or if anyone else would have been around to share in the atmosphere. As it was, our visit to the farm was yet another episode of our Mississippian Twilight Zone.

Fall Break, Day One

Dear all,

Yesterday, M. and I decided to get out of the house. We work and work and work and work some more until we feel like the mining dwarves in that Disney movie and we work and work and work except we don't have any gemstones to show for all that work work work work, if you get what I'm saying. (Bear in mind that I'm not sure that I know what I'm saying.) So, yeah, we needed to get out, so we got. Out.

Well, not so fast. First, I went to an orthopedic (or orthopaedic, if you're British) doctor in the morning about my hips. He thinks that I have a tear in my acetabulum labrum and I might need surgery. Alas. Well, once we get decent insurance, that might be an option. I've always wanted to add to my cool scar collection.

I also had to interview a faculty member from an academic department that we tutors in the USM Writing Center weren't familiar with--I got the "Administration of Justice" Department. (Rather grand sounding, eh?) See, in the Writing Center, we get students from every department, every major, so we need to be jacks-of-all-trades, knowing what each and every department wants in the essays they assign. It's a large undertaking, but the faculty member I interviewed was really patient, so the process went pretty well. That, and, since it's Fall Break, I could actually find a parking spot on campus.

Melanie and I had been looking for something nifty to do. We thought about driving to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, to visit Whole Foods and stock up on organic bananas (I'm allergic to regular bananas) and visit the temple, but the temple wasn't available (it's a small one), and I had a hard time justifying the need to drive 2 1/2 hours for bananas. (Fortunately, I found a place in town that has organic bananas--AT $1.26 A POUND.) (Yes, I bought them, slave to appetite that I am.) So we were looking for somewhere else to go when we stumbled across this working farm that lets visitors pick their own vegetables. "Wow," I said, "we could do our shopping and vacationing in one fell swoop!" Also, Melanie discovered that the farm had a "Peanut Pit," kinda like the ball-pits at McDonald's playgrounds--a large pit filled with peanuts that we could play around in. (NOTE: As further proof that I am an official Wild 'n' Crazy Type Guy, I didn't understand--I thought that the Peanut Pit--and I'm sure that's not the official name, but it's what I'm using--was a water tank filled with a mixture of water and peanuts, and I thought that it was some kind of alternative spa treatment or something, swimming around with all the peanuts. And I was STILL WILLING to do it.) (Or at least see it.) (Okay, I wasn't going to do it.)

Off we went to Mitchell Farms, located outside of Collins, MS. On their website, they had all these pictures of happy people in shorts posing on haybales, picking vegetables, etc. Once we got there, though--

*Cue creepy music*

--there wasn't anybody around. Sure, there were some surly-looking guys working on tractors and winnowing peanuts, but, aside from the funky wagon we'd seen driving in (more on that later), we didn't see much. There was a pumpkin patch, but it wasn't really a pumpkin patch--just a bare plot of earth that had pumpkins for sale scattered across it. There were some period-piece cabins, but nobody was in them. There were Native American tipis (!), but, nope, nobody there.

And then the wagon came pulling up.

A long wagon, nearly twenty feet long, decorated with enormous orange cut-outs of peanuts with smiling faces ("Howdy! I'm delicious!" I imagined them saying), pulled by a tractor with another surly-looking fellow at the helm. The wagon was full, we learned, of people from a retirement home nearby, and there was an elderly lady with a microphone giving them a tour of the farm. We heard some of her spiel; here are some highlights:

"My husband and I got married when I was fifteen and he was seventeen." (They said it wouldn't last, she said, but it did.) (Man, I wasn't even dating when I was fifteen.)

"Those are tipis over there. Nothing's in 'em, but we put some rocks in there, and the kids love playing with 'em." (Of course! Rocks! Just what I wanted when I was a kid!)

When the group disembarked (which was rough, because the surly guy parked the wagon on a hill, and one guy in a wheelchair started rolling out of control when he got off), we joined them in touring a farm museum that they had there; it was filled with all sorts of farming/Southern/domestic kitsch--one wall in the museum was covered with nothing but dozens and dozens of antique cheese graters. I stared at it with one of the ladies from the retirement home. "That's grate," I said. She didn't get it. (Across the room, M. just shook her head and laughed.)

Eventually, we tired of all the cheese graters and antique tin cans and odd posters. (One featured a quote from Lyndon Johnson: "Sometimes you just have to hunker down and take it like a [donkey] in a hailstorm.") So we went outside and found a small animal pen. Inside were two goats, one of which was reclining in the feed trough and defecating on his food; three rabbits; and two miniature donkeys--I believe it was a mother and her, uh, baby donkey. The donkeys were quite friendly, and we hung out with them for a while. The baby donkey liked to stomp his hooves, so M. named him Stomper. The mother donkey had a dark streak across her side, so we named her Streak. Yep, there we were, Stomper, Streak, M. and me, shooting the breeze and trying to get that obscene goat to stop pooping in its feed trough.

By now, if we squinted, we could see our sanity slowly dripping away from us, so we bid a hasty retreat. We did drive by a cotton field, though, and we stopped and took pictures, which we'll retrieve as soon as we can get the pictures off M.'s cellphone.

Then we went to the Farmer's Market and the New Yokel Market, which had organic bananas, and all was well. The end.

So what do you do all day when you don't have a job?

Good question. It's nice for about a week and then you get bored and antsy. Though I would never wish being unemployed on anyone, the experience has given me an empathy for those who are or have been in similar situations that I would have never been able to completely understand unless I'd been through it myself. First of all, I feel guilty for not having a job yet and for being at home all day not earning money, and worried at the bills etc. It's an interesting feeling, especially since just 2 1/2 months ago I was so busy that I never had a free moment for anything. It would be nice if I could relax, but that's not my style. I always have to be working on some useful project.

So in an effort to contribute, given the circumstances, each day when I pick up Jeff from school I give him the run-down of the tasks I have tackled that particular day. (I hear this is common of women who stay at home with the children). Poor guy. I talk his ear off, and he is so overwhelmed by having too much to do with work, school, church etc. that we're kind of on opposite ends of the spectrum. I jabber on and on because I have been alone all day and need to hear my own voice. For example, "Today I sent my resume to X and X, sent a followup email and called X and X, made a breakthrough with this family line, talked to the insurance company about the car wreck, updated the budget, put air in the tires, made dinner, wrote a letter to my friend X, cleaned out the microwave, vacuumed, folded the laundry etc. etc." It's truly ridiculous. I try very hard to stay positive. I think everyone feels a need to contribute and do something they enjoy--that's why being unemployed is such a hard thing for people. So I'm grateful for the perspective I've gained through this experience.

To further keep myself busy I've been volunteering transcribing old Baptist Missionary Society letters/journals from India for the Southern Baptist Historical Library & Archives in Tennessee. It's very interesting, but slow going. Here's an example of a page I transcribed this morning.



Also, something that's been kind of fun is that one of Jeff's distant relatives in Indiana has given all his family documents and photos to me because he has no one to leave them to when he dies. He sent me this cute little Bible from 1881 that belonged to his grandfather. It made me think of my friend, Danna Richards, who collects old Bibles as a hobby.

Some color and excitement for the blog

Though we still don't have a camera and cannot show you pictures of ourselves, I finally got the scanner set up the other day, so at least I'll be able to share something!

I was so excited on Tuesday when I received a little package from some of my favorite people: my sister-in-law Erika and my nieces Libby, Abby, and Kally. They colored me pictures during conference. Libby's picture of the "M" library and Abby's Halloween masterpiece are just the pick-me-up I needed. Thanks girls!

Rescue

Today we rescued a poor little sun-bathing turtle from imminent death. He was hanging out (or rather hiding inside his shell) in the middle of the road next to our apartment complex. Jeff, with his keen eye, spotted the little guy as we drove past. A car came careening down the road just as we were trying to get to the turtle, and the car didn't slow down despite our frantic waving and dancing; however, the turtle was miraculously spared. He was not too pleased to have Jeff pick him up, but we placed him on the lawn and hoped that we had saved his life--if only for a short time.

We thought we'd write about this since we never found a turtle on the road in Utah. Oh, and for Jeff's cousin, Madison, in Arizona, we see frogs and lizards all the time here.

Shingles

No--not the kind on the roof. Poor Jeff has shingles which is sort of the adult version of chicken pox--except for the pox hurt more than they itch. The doctor describes it as a stabbing-like pain. Suffice it to say that it has not been a pleasant last few days. Mostly older people get shingles, but I guess younger people can get them if they're under a lot of stress. Luckily, he didn't get it on his face, just on his stomach and back. Jeff likes to refer to his disease as my herpes (technically herpes zoster), but I prefer shingles.