Grading

This means the semester is finally coming to a close. Yeah!!

I don't know about y'all, but I think Jeff is the cutest thing since stuffed animals. He's my smarty pants, and I'm head-over-heels in love with that big brain of his.

Are you kidding me?

All the area schools closed today because we got a little snow last night and 2-4 inches were expected today. Youth activities at church were also cancelled last night, and so Jeff and I were left with two dozen unclaimed donuts. It's just a few flakes! Well, to be fair, it has been quite windy and rainy lately, and some people lost power because of downed trees. However, our apartment complex doesn't get tree damage, so maybe we just don't understand the full impact of the situation. This is a photo from the local newspaper of an unnamed kid having the time of his life this morning.

The First Not-so-Annual Elder's Quorum Non-Turkey Turkey Shoot

We had a blast shooting guns in Eastabuchie, MS, with our friends the Jacksons, Scotts, and Britts.
P.S. Thank you, Bob & Vickie, for our early Christmas present. The camera is wonderful, and even I can take non-blurry pictures!

Long Lost Pictures

I was able to access some of my cell phone pictures while I was in Utah, so here are pictures to go along with some of our past adventures.


Our cute niece, Abby


Jeff on the Longleaf Trace, a walking trail near our house. We live right on the boundary between Forrest and Lamar counties, so Jeff is giving a thumbs down for Lamar Co. since we live in Forrest Co.


Jeff directing the deafening bug chorus coming from the trees


Jeff with the cougars at the Collins Exotic Animal Orphanage


The Obscene Goat


Jeff posing with pumpkins at Mitchell Farms


Notice the turkey claw hooks. Waste not, want not?


Jeff with the cheese graters at the museum

On Recent Goings. On.

Dear all,

Time to catch up, eh?

Nearly a week later, I'm still overjoyed at my wife's return. She's bastante cool, and I adore her. Not having her around was awful--though, don't get me wrong, I'm very glad that she got to visit her family and enjoy herself for her birthday. And, sure, I get by, without her around, but not very well. To illustrate, in completely ineffective manner: Imagine a day at the beach without waves. You can go, you can splash around, but after a while you say, Hey, why no waves, and the beach really isn't that fun without the waves, it's just like a big brown stupid lake, and it's boring, and you feel all alone, and people ask you at church where your wife is and the house is eerily quiet and and and MELANIE PLEASE DON'T LEAVE AGAIN!

Ahem.

Sorry 'bout that. But now--after quite the ordeal in Dallas, as she's previously blogged--she's back, and happy times are here again.

On Friday, The Center for Writers hosted their monthly "Cafe Night" reading series, wherein authors in the program are invited to read their work. I was asked to read, so I chose "Rigor Mortis: A Thanksgiving Story," my romp about a dude who wants to be buried on Temple Square. I think it went well--several people commented that they liked it, which relieved me, since I was wondering how an LDS-themed story would go over in a bar. (Yes, in a bar--it seems that the English Department would permanently relocate to a bar if they had the chance, since nearly all of the department's functions are held in bars, as it is.) (On a related note, I've started drinking beer.)

After the reading, we went over to a small reception hosted by an acquaintance of mine in the program. (Of course I'm not drinking beer.) It was great--she'd made a cranberry-chocolate biscotti loaf, and, between me and the hostess' dog, it was disappearing pretty fast. (The dog was so cute--it had learned how to roll over and play dead, and I had to reward it with biscotti...)

I'm also very thrilled, very, because my family is coming to visit in a week. Woot! Hallelujah! Salute! M. and I are planning fun excursions; I was trying to find a good Southern barbecue joint to visit, and, when I asked about a famous place in town--it's been featured on The Travel Channel and everything--I was told, "That is good food, and it's been years since they were caught recycling people's iced tea." Yes, apparently the wait staff would go around the restaurant and empty the remnants of patrons' glasses into a communal pitcher and re-use it. But, hey, since I don't drink iced tea, I don't see any problem.

Well, TTFN. Rock on.

A Fun Surprise

Today on the drive back to Hattiesburg I got a big suprise--a phone call from El Salvador from my dear friend and mission companion, Patty Putzeis. We had a nice long chat in Spanish (it went pretty well except for my getting stuck on the word bigot while explaining the whole prop 8 controversy--though, to my credit, Jeff didn't know that word either). I learned that Patty now has two little boys and that she's become a campesina/country girl (she had to leave the capitol, San Salvador, for someplace with cleaner air for her baby's health).

I visited Patty's family in El Salvador about six years ago and also have a very special place in my heart for her mom, brother, and sister. Last time I saw Patty's brother, Tito (Estuardo), he was twelve years old. Now he's super tall and preparing to go on a mission. And her sister has two girls, one of whom, I learned, was given the middle name of Melanie (that makes one little Melanie in El Salvador and another in Costa Rica).

Of course, I had to come home and look at pictures of Patty and her family and reminisce. It was one of those moments when you say to yourself, "Man, I have a good life." The people make it so.

Thanks to everyone who made my birthday wonderful this year and sent kind notes and thoughts my way!


Patty, Tito, & Patty's mom in El Salvador

Me and Patty playing in a Costa Rican monsoon

Me and Patty with our special family in Costa Rica

Home Again...Tucker Style

The plan was to get home last night so that I could spend some time with Jeff on my birthday, but I guess it just wasn't to be.

Due to bad weather, DFW airport closed up shop last night (they pulled out the cots and everything). As a result, AA (American Airlines, not Alcoholics Anonymous)got me a "deal" at the Hotel Elegante Formal (I'm not making up the name--that's really what it's called). Well, it was raining so hard that it took the driver 45 minutes to pick us up at the airport, and then we began the long trek back to the hotel.

Since we were experiencing a major downpour/lightning storm, there was about zero visibility. Accordingly, the driver took it slow at 35 mph. Every once in a while, we noticed the van meandering back and forth across the road. This swaying action was accompanied by an incoherent high pitched squeal from the driver. The poor guy had a death grip on the wheel. At this point, one of my stranger-friends-in-crisis in the shuttle offered to start passing out meds to the other passengers. We all laughed nervously as we plodded along to the outer reaches of Dallas. The same aforementioned stranger-friend-in-crisis then remarked on how excited she was to see all the adult entertainment venues in that particular neighborhood. Luckily, just minutes later, we pulled up to our hotel. I gave the poor driver a tip and said, "Good driving!" As I entered the hotel, I noticed a huge stone slab with the ten commandments engraven upon it (my guesss was that it was intended to combat the evils of the neighborhood).

The hotel was surprisingly nice and comfortable, so much so, in fact, that I stayed up until the wee hours watching Little People Big World and the like (though briefly taking a break to go downstairs to order room service since my phone wasn't working).

After about four hours of sleep, I was ready to get back to the excitement of the airport. As I checked out, I overheard someone say that the other hotel shuttle had gotten stuck in mud the night before and had to be pulled out. Needless to say, that driver was also traumatized.

Well, to make a long story just a bit shorter (not much), I had another flight cancelled, went through four gate changes, got "disqualified" for standby on another flight (since I had a carry on, and the plane was already over weight), & got motion sick in the plane (that never happens to me).

Well, the point of this story is that I have never been so happy to see my husband before, and my birthday is now complete. The end.

Hello from Utah!

I've spent a few days with my family in Utah to celebrate my birthday and have had a great time. There's something to be said for having your mom take care of you and cater to your every whim!! Thanks, Mom! (She even bought all my favorite foods, made me a sack lunch one day, and waited around for a couple hours while I went to the family history library--now that's love)!

I went to a genealogy conference in Provo, had lunch with my awesome sister-in-law, Courtney, attended stake conference with my parents, visited with my and Jeff's family, and had a yummy spaghetti dinner and apple crisp last night. One of the highlights was a girls' sleepover on Friday at a hotel in Lehi with Mom, Erika, Ashley, and my nieces, Libby, Abby, & Kally. The one bad thing (other than Jeff not being here) was missing my sister, Lindsey. She'll be in Utah in a few days for a wedding, but since I'm going back to Mississippi today, we won't see each other.

Here are couple of pictures. Thanks, everyone (especially Mom and Dad) for an awesome trip!

There is Hope for Civilization

Today gas in Hattiesburg was $1.99/gallon. Can you believe it?

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.

Catching up...

It's easy to get out of the habit of posting to the blog. I guess it would be easier if something really interesting was happening or if we had a camera that worked.

Jeff continues to be super busy with school. Reading, writing, teaching...plus he just got called to be the Elder's Quorum President in our ward here. A lady in our ward who's also going to graduate school summed up the life of a PhD student best, "If I were to read all day, only taking a break to shower and eat, I would still never finish all the reading they assign."

I continue to look for a job. The pickins are pretty slim around here. For the time being I'll have to get something outside my field with minimum pay, but even that has proved difficult. Several people have told me that in Hattiesburg you should just be grateful to get a job--no matter what it is. The trouble I'm facing now for the few jobs that are available is that I'm overqualified. I've had to tweak my resume and cover letters considerably. I guess the key will be convincing people that they should hire me though I'm sure they'll suspect I'll leave when something better comes along.

The good news is that I've had some extra time and have made some huge break throughs in genealogy. However, I realized I was getting the job search and the search for Baptist missionary ancestors in India mixed up when Jeff found the following error on a cover letter:

Ms. X X
University of Southern Missionary

It's a good thing he caught that one!

A few highlights from the past few weeks:

Having my mom and dad visit us. Jeff had so much homework that I took them down to the Gulfport/Biloxi area (to the Gulf Coast) for a little sightseeing. Truthfully, there was not much to see but a whole lot of hurricane damage. They are still trying to rebuild from Katrina. It's amazing--entire hotels reduced to nothing. Then it happened to be stake conference weekend, but they were good sports to come to all our meetings with us. I loved having them here! Thanks Mom and Dad for going to a conference in Memphis and for driving five hours+++ to come see us!

Going to a wild animal orphanage in Collins where they adopt animals that people have taken on as pets and then realize after the fact that it wasn't such a good idea. They also take animals that state-funded zoos can no longer care for. This place was surreal. I was scared for my life. You could get within about three feet of the animal cages--lions, cougars, leopards, tigers etc. There were other animals as well, but the cats were the most unsettling. Again, we were the only ones there, and I jumped about three feet into the air when from behind us there was a raucous "HELLO!" It turned out to just be the parrots behind us, but I was sure that one of the big cats had started talking and was coming to get us. There's something unsettling about being that close to wild beasts in homemade cages. You can see every detail of their faces, know that they are looking right at you. Their menacing expressions seemed to be directed to us personally. Jeff convinced the owner to let him pet the burmese python. I opted out when she asked, "Do you have the scent of food on your hands?" and "He can sense your fear!" when the snake recoiled at Jeff's touch.

Jeff went to Houma (Home-uh), Louisiana, this weekend to help with hurricane cleanup efforts as part of a service project between Martin Luther King III and the LDS church. It didn't make the news that much, but Houma was the place when Gustav made landfall. He spent the day clearing out trees and nailing tarps to roofs.

Guess that's all for now!

A word about photos...

I apologize to all that we have not included any photos in our posts as of late. Sadly, our digital camera has been taken over by demons. Also, Verizon does not have digital services here in Hattiesburg, so we apparently cannot access our camera pics either. It may be awhile before we get a new camera because a couch for the living room has first priority (well, after paying the rent and other bills of course) once I get a job.

All is safe and well in Hattiesburg

Just wanted to let everyone know that we're doing fine. We, along with most everyone in town, stayed inside almost all day yesterday, and the roads were near empty. We had some heavy rain and bouts of whistling wind pretty much all day/all evening (and it still continues) and the sky looks pretty ominous, but not even close to what they were showing on TV. They say we only got 3-5 inches in our area. We had tornado warnings throughout a good part of the day, and that was kind of unsettling to hear the sirens going off in the distance and coming from the TV periodically. There were some power outages, but our lights never went out.

Everyone in town pretty much breathed a collective sigh of relief. Gustav, at least for our area, was NOT a repeat of Katrina. I guess the worst that happened to us is that we were bored being cooped up all day long. The scene was reminiscent of the children's book, "The Cat in the Hat" --a boy and a girl staring gloomily out the window with the narrator reading in the background--“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house all that cold, cold, wet day.”

As I mentioned before, there are lots of refugees from down south staying in town, and the governor has told everyone to stay put until Wednesday. I'm sure there will be some damage and flooding for some when they return home. School remains closed today, which is probably a good thing, since a lot of local students with family near the coast traveled with their families to evacuate to other states etc.

The general feeling down here is that the media only thinks that Katrina affected New Orleans, when in fact many other places took a direct hit. I noticed yesterday as we watched the news that that was still the case (though understandable). It's been a bit difficult to sort out what's actually true coming from the media or if things are being exaggerated in order to get a news story. This morning I read on the local newspaper's website that there were "gaping holes where fists of air punched through" many billboards in town, when in fact, that was done beforehand as a preventative measure to keep the signs from catching the wind and toppling over.

Well, there go the tornado warning bells again...

Thanks for all your prayers and thoughts.

Another Saturday in Laurel

Yesterday we decided to go to a gator farm south of Laurel for our Saturday entertainment. However, after driving around in the deep woods (it was a little eerie, and we both agreed we were a little scared), the neighbor lady said it had closed down. So we decided to go to nearby Landrums which is kind of similar to Wheeler Farm in Murray or the Old West town at Lagoon except for it was the Old South. It's a little replica city from olden times--a blacksmith shop, a pig pen, a log cabin etc. Though that was a bit eerie too since we were the only ones there and there was cheery music playing in the background (it conjured up images of Ray Bradbury's "Something Wicked This Way Comes").

The highlight was playing in the "mystery house" where the floors are built on a angle. The house basically plays tricks with your mind. I got so dizzy I had to sit down and both of us were staggering all over the place.

On the way up to Laurel (heading north) we had passed several convoys of National Guardsmen going south to the coast as well as lots of motor coaches. We mentioned the convoy to a lady at Landrums, and I guess she figured that since we had recently moved there we had no idea what was going on and she proceded to tell us that a hurricane was coming and we better get ready!!

As Gustav approaches...

We thought some might be interested in what's happening in our part of the world. Everything and everyone is completely focused on Gustav right now. We've never watched a hurricane's movements so completely before. We have our home pages set to the National Hurricane Center and the MEMA (Mississippi Emergency Management Agency) website, and there's a new advisory out every few hours.

For those of you who don't know where we're living now---time to get out the map--we're in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.

So far it looks like Hattiesburg won't be as badly affected as it was with Katrina three years ago, but they're expecting high winds, rain, and possible tornadoes. A big fear is damage from falling trees (the city lost 1/3 of all its trees last time, which is a lot since Hattiesburg was cut out of a forest). Apparently damage is always worse to the east of a hurricane (and we are east) because of the counter-clockwise movement of the storm.

The third hour of church was a combined meeting where they made sure everyone was prepared and answered questions, last minute instructions were given etc. We had to fill out a sheet with all our contact info saying how much water we had etc. A member of our ward works for the fire department and so came to church in jeans to give us some info and then left. We have members of the church from the near coastal town of Slidell living in our ward building.

For about twelve hours today they turned both sides of the major freeway, the I-59, into north-flowing traffic to facilitate evacuees from the coast. The roads have been jam-packed but traffic seems to be lessening a bit now. We're hoping that means most people got out early. To further facilite evacuation, they've turned all lights green on the north/south flowing highway 49 which runs through the center of town and are blocking east/west access to the road except for four e/w roads in town that are overpasses.

I think Jeff and I are personally in a very good spot in town. We're in a second floor apartment, and we don't have many trees close by that could fall on us etc. Clouds are already quickly rolling in from the south, and they expect the rain to begin around midnight (I take that back--it just started raining and blowing hard right now).

Oh, for those of you who are wondering about my job prospects, I was supposed to find out Friday if I got the job I've been interviewing for, but they had to cancel the last interview so that they could coordinate evacuation efforts for their campus in Gulfport. So it'll be at least another week before I know.

Also just found out that all schools are closed Tuesday.

Waiting for Gustav

Dear all,

Ah, it's lovely here in Hattiesburg. The weather is warm, the people are polite, and the English Department is a never-ending source of entertainment--that is, listening to stories about the professors getting hammered with the students at academic conferences. I guess there was some dancing going on in New Orleans, and then eight people crammed into a car in the French Quarter, and...never mind.

M. and I went down to the little town of Picayune, Mississippi last weekend. We were looking for "India 4 U," touted as the best Indian restaurant in Mississippi by someone in the program with me. Sadly, the restaurant was out of business. Looking in the guide book, M. noticed that there was a famous arboretum nearby--which, upon our arrival, we also found to be closed. The only thing left to do in town was visit "Paul's Pastry Shop," the world's largest maker of "King Cakes," cakes eaten at Mardi Gras. Inside each cake is a small, plastic baby figurine, and whoever gets the baby (hopefully not choking to death on it) has to host a Mardi Gras party the next year.

So, at the least, it was a nice drive, and, at the most, it was a lesson in Southern culture. We had some people from the ward over on Sunday to eat the cake (which gave me a royally upset stomach), and nobody got the baby; perhaps that's for the best.

The big news now is that, having had Hurricane Fay pass by us, we're preparing for the possible visit of Hurricane Gustav, which is currently glowering somewhere south of Cuba. We still don't know exactly where it will go; a lot depends on whether it hits Cuba or not. If it touches land, it loses energy; if it stays over water, it grows. Thus, we would love nothing more than for it to make landfall in some desolate, uninhabited part of Cuba--where it won't hurt anybody--and dump all its energy.

However, like I said, we're preparing. The calls went out from the ward last night to get our 72-hour survival kits ready. Bottled water is flying off the shelves at the grocery stores, and we need to keep the car gassed up. Right now, the weather forecasters are thinking that the storm--if it comes this way--would probably hit on Monday or Tuesday; we'll see.

Please pray for us and the greater Gulf Coast area; goodness knows that New Orleans doesn't need another hit from a hurricane.

Trouble at the DMV

We went to get our driver's licenses today at the DMV. The building was actually a trailer in the middle of nowhere in a forest (Mississippi style?). I brought all my proper documentation as listed on the website, but the not-so-nice government worker and then her supervisor put me through the ringer, saying that, "Yes, you can use the gas bill with your husband's name on it to prove domicile, but did you bring your marriage certificate to prove he is your husband? For all we know, you could be siblings, ma'am." I showed them my social security card with my maiden name. Apparently not acceptable. I had brought the printout of the requirements from the website, and I very politely pointed out that it said nothing about bringing a marriage certificate, but they just brushed me off and treated me like I was being unreasonable. As you can imagine, I was not pleased. So I sulked in a chair and looked at the dirty floor while Jeff got his license. Then I pointed and said, "Ha!" when I noticed the phrase, "The Hospitality State" emblazoned across Jeff's new license. I may look nice, but as you can see I get ticked off every now and again.

Longleaf Trace

Tonight we decided to explore the Longleaf Trace which is a biking/walking etc. trail that runs just to the north of our apartment complex. It starts in Hattiesburg and follows a northeastly direction for 41 miles until it ends in Prentiss. It's nice and flat, and I told Jeff I wanted to try to walk the 41 miles one day sometime during the three years we're here (though I'd prefer to make friends with someone that would be willing to be waiting in Prentiss with the car so that we didn't have to make the return trip). Apparently Hattiesburg does not have any sidewalks, so it's a good thing there's a nice walking trail close by (the only problem is getting to the trail without being hit by a car!)

I love the evenings here. It's still comfortably warmish, but there's usually a nice little breeze. Though tonight I realized how heavy the air really is and actually noticed it was a little harder to breathe here. And the air always looks misty and akin to a mirage. Hattiesburg has an elevation of 220 ft. and Salt Lake City is at about 4,300 ft., so that's a big difference for us.

We were scared to death that some tick would latch onto some part of our bodies while we walked the trail, but thankfully, I think we're okay (at least for tonight!)

There's always a deafening "bug symphony" coming from any tree or wooded area here. Jeff tells me this is because of the cries of the cicadas.

We live right on the boundary of two counties (Forrest and Lamar) but thanks to the signs along the trail learned that we actually live in Forrest County (darn! we were hoping to break away from the KKK connection).

The Lauren Rogers Museum

When we moved to Mississississississippi, we swore that we would do something every weekend, even if we were dead tired. It was just one of those things that needed to be done--I mean, neither Mel nor I were particularly familiar with the South, and how could we have been? We can't let this opportunity go to waste.

So, today, we went to 1) the Petal Farmer's Market (Petal is the city adjacent to Hattiesburg on the northeast), and 2) the Lauren Rogers Museum in Laurel, which is about twenty-five miles northeast. (See? We live in the South. Everything, almost, is north.)

The Petal Farmer's Market was pretty pathetic. There were three tents, and we didn't even get out of the car. (As a side note, we went to the Hattiesburg Farmer's Market on Thursday, and it was much, much better. The tamale lady made some fine cuisine, indeed.)

The museum, though, was very good. We drove for a little bit--the speed limits are higher here in Mississippi, and you can cover some serious territory very quickly--and arrived in Laurel. It looked pretty descrepit at first, but we soon found the older, more historic part of town, which had some nice Southern-style mansions and such, one of which had been converted into the museum. Apparently, Lauren Rogers was a young man--yes, a man--who died soon after marrying. Anyway, the family estate got turned into a museum, which is proportionately very prestigious, especially considering how it's in a tiny town in the Gulf Coast. Heck, they even hosted Chihuly a while back (!). So, yep, it was nifty.

Driving home, though, was another matter. We were both starving, and we saw a billboard for a place called "The Flaming Pineapple," so, with a name like that, we had to visit. We took a wrong turn, though, and ended up back in Hattiesburg about thirty minutes later. Eh, oops.

So, so far, we've kept our promise.

Pictures from Family Goodbye Party

Finally, here are the pictures from our goodbye party with my family. First, a few of us did a session at the Bountiful Temple, and then we met for a late night "let's eat cause we're really hungry" party at a park by our house in Murray. As you can tell, we all had a wonderful time. Most of the photos are courtesy of my niece, Libby, who had the best time of all. We were glad Jeff's Aunt Gayleen was able to go to the temple with us too since we don't get to see her very often.

My ordeal this morning

Now that Jeff and I are sharing a car, I decided I wanted to clean it out. After dropping J. off to school at about 10 a.m., I stopped at a gas station, parked the car, opened all the doors, and deposited my four quarters in the vacuum machine. Nothing. I went inside the gas station to ask if the machines were working. "I'm sorry, but those don't even belong to us, so I don't know." So I tried the vacuum on the other side. This time putting one quarter in seemed to do the trick. When the power shut off after a few minutes, I added four more quarters thinking that the one quarter thing was just a fluke. Nothing. It was so hot and humid that by the time I'd gone through this whole process I was beyond "glowing" (i.e. sweating with style). A man was sitting on the curb in front of the convenience store at the gas station and seemed to be watching every phase of my ordeal very intently. He kept saying things to me which I imagine were about the vacuums, but I couldn't understand a word he said with his accent. So I just continued nodding my head like I undersood, and called out things like, "Yes, that's right." So then I went home and proceeded to freeze all day in the house because of the dried perspiration on my body, but I didn't really want to take another shower since I had just taken one....Oh boy....I thought I had gotten used to this in Costa Rica, but I must be out of practice after seven years!

Hattiesburg, Mississippi

Dear all,

As I wrote several weeks back, we have arrived.

However, this time, it's permanent. Well, permanent until I graduate with my Ph.D. and get a job somewhere.

Here are the answers to many of the questions we've received:

Q: Are you coming back to Utah?
A: Maybe, maybe not. It all depends on where I get offered a job in three years.

Q: Do you want to go to California?
A: Yes, but it all depends on where I get offered a job in three years.

Q: Is there ______________ (fill in the blank: electricity, literacy, modern medicine, etc.) in Mississippi?
A: Yes. Mississippi is a modern state. Rural, but modern.

Q: How long will it take you to get your Ph.D.?
A: Three years, which is really fast, as far as Ph.D.s go. Most Ph.D. programs take around five years--and sometimes more, especially for the hard sciences. Plus, in the hard sciences, you're usually expected to do postdoctoral work, which takes even more time.

Q: What happened to the Explorer?
A: We gave it to the Kidney Foundation of Utah and Idaho; you know, it's that charity with the slightly amusing jingle on the radio about "mak[ing] your car a kidney car." It actually went really smoothly.

Q: Does it rain a lot in Mississippi?
A: It certainly does where we live. Today, Melanie wondered out loud, as we drove through a typhoon, "Did we move to freaking India?"

We're still getting settled, but things are going well. I've had Writing Center orientation for the past two days, since I'll be a tutor in the Writing Center here, and tomorrow I begin my teacher training.

We appreciate your prayers--we feel them. Please continue. We love you all.

J.

Lincoln, Nebraska

Well, ten hours later, here we are at the Holiday Inn Express in lovely Lincoln, NE. We've learned that the estimated travel times on Mapquest are not necessarily true in our case. We have to multiply the estimated time by 1.25--so instead of an eight hour drive, it takes us ten hours. The Penske truck only goes so fast, and I-80 has lots of construction (about half the time we're down to one lane).

We got a late start this morning because of an adjustment we had to make with the tow dolly that's hauling Jeff's car (now my car too--we got rid of the red cherry bomb Ford Explorer).

We've noticed lots of Penske moving trucks hauling cars along I-80, and each time we see the yellow Penske trucks, we both raise our right arm in a gesture of greeting and simultaneously utter the word "Brother!"

Then of course the highlight of the day was stopping at the world headquarters of Cabellas. We asked one of the employees what was different about the headquarters when compared to other stores, and she said that some of the "stuffed animals" (ie taxidermied animals on display) had been "taken" by the founders of the company. Jeff said about Cabellas, "Whoa!" and I for one did not appreciate the juxtaposition of the words "gun" and "library" in the same phrase (that's what they call their expensive gun vault). I had also hoped to buy a pack of gum, but alas, the store did not carry any. I was very disappointed and muttered bitterly, "Maybe we should have asked for gum jerky."

So, as you can see, all is going splendidly well on our trek to our new homeland, and we have luckily not lost our sense of humor. This is probably due to the fact that we listen to NPR and eat smarties, red vines, and cheese puffs all day long (thanks, Mom!)

See y'all soon!

Rawlins, Wyoming

Right now, it's 9:58pm on Wednesday, and I'm sitting in Meeting Room #2 in a hotel in Rawlins, Wyoming. That's right--the meeting room. And I'm grateful for it, because it seems that this whole town is full of travelers like myself. (Supposedly, there was vacancy in a motel down the freeway, but a meeting room in the hand is worth a honeymoon suite down the freeway.)

Yes, there is a bed and a bathroom. One wall is a folding partition, like the kind that separates the chapel from the cultural hall in church meetinghouses. But, hey, it's OURS, and I really am quite grateful.

I hope our pizza arrives soon...

Gratitude

Dear all,

Pictures will certainly follow, but I wanted to extend my heartfelt thanks to everyone who participated in the going-away party that the Petersens threw for us this evening. I haven't had people do something like that for me in a very, very long time. It was almost overwhelming. You are all amazing.

And--one last time, to assuage my guilty conscience, so please bear with me--I apologize for any derogatory remarks about Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Thanks especially to those responsible for bringing Farr's ice cream. You rock, royally.

And, yes, pictures will be up soon.

A redaction, of sorts

Dear all,

Earlier today, I posted a...post...about a satirical blog that had received press coverage in the Deseret Morning News; I was wondering what people thought about it. However, throughout the day, I realized that I probably ought to take the link down. See, I started reading the fake blog and, while I can see from where the humor derives, it also has certain elements with which I don't want *my* blog to be associated. (It's treatment of spousal intimacy, for example, was a bit, uh, coy and perverse at the same time. It's hard to describe.)

My cousin-in-law, Kirsten, commented on the matter, saying:

"Um, I'm not sure what to think, I found it somewhat amusing, and I kinda really want one of the t-shirts, but it started to really get on my nerves. It reminded me of these books that I had just finished reading that are set in the future, and the powers-that-be mandate a special surgery where everyone comes out braindamaged but happy and superficial all the time and life's perfect, and life's one big party, etc. etc. I know it's a big joke, and we've all seen (or written) blog posts with certain elements that she's making fun of, but it got old pretty fast."

Interesting comment, Kirsten--hence, I'm reprinting it here. What books were those, by the way? It sounds a lot like Kurt Vonegut's "Harrison Bergeron," but that's a short story.

Thus, I have deleted the post. Anyone who's sufficiently motivated can, I'm sure, find it, if they so desire.

Memory Game

Our impending move to Missisippi has made me a bit nostalgic. My aunt Carrie's blog gave me the idea to have friends/family share some memories.
Here are the rules.
1. As a comment on my blog, leave a memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you know me a little or a lot, anything you remember!
2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll be sure to write one about you... either on your blog, in my comment box, or I will email you back!
3. If the memory happens to involve my husband, please include him!
4. If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all ☺Okay, let's see what you've got!

Melanie

One more problem with the accent

I had another incident which shows my lack of understanding of the Southern accent. I went to the local public library to ask about possible jobs. Since no one was in the administration office, I started talking to one of the staff members working at the children's reference desk and pumping her for information. After a few minutes of chatting she suggested I go to the circ desk and ask to see Miss Donna Davis. I couldn't quite make out the name because of her accent, and so clarified with, "I'm sorry. What was the first name? Mizahna?" "No, ma'am," she replied, trying not to smile at my mistake. "Here we refer to everyone as Miss or Mrs. followed by their name. I said Miss Donna Davis." "Oh, I see," I replied. "Thank you." I guess it all turned out okay except that I probably should have ended with, "Thank you, Miss." Or would it be ma'am? How am I supposed to know if she's married or not!! I thought I had passed that stage in my life where I have to check for wedding rings. Or is the Miss and Ma'am really based on age? And why are there two choices for woman when there's just one choice for men (mister)?

Back from Dixie...for now

Dear all,

Well, after numerous (!) hours in airports and planes, we have returned to our Wasatch perch. The trip, really, can only be called a roaring success, and we are incredibly thankful for the blessings we've seen.

For example, we now have a great apartment to live in. It took a little negotiation, but we prevailed. The good thing is that the apartment building was constructed AFTER Hurricane Katrina--thus, we don't have to worry about any of the lingering after-effects of the storm, like mold. (I was especially concerned about that when, talking to a member of the Hattiesburg Ward, which we will be attending, the member mentioned that all the roofs in the city had been ripped off. An exaggeration, perhaps, but perhaps not.)

Also--and I realize that this may seem relatively insignificant, but it isn't--we have gotten acquianted with the lay of the land. First off (and I know I've mentioned this before), Hattiesburg is carved out of the biggest forest I've ever seen--I think that the bottom half of Mississippi is nothing but one large pine forest, dotted with ponds and lakes and streams. Pretty, yes, but it can also be foreboding in a way. Having driven all over creation down there, we're a bit more comfortable with the environment.

We also went to church and met all the members, so we have acquaintances down there now. One young couple actually invited us over for dinner on Monday night, which was entirely too nice of them. Their two young sons, Evan and Caleb, were a royal hoot, showing off for M. like there was no tomorrow.

M.'s meeting with the director of the university library also went well. Interesting story: When cleaning out the library, the director found an original, first-edition copy of the Book of Mormon (!). Not having much need for it, the school auctioned it off and got $60,000.00. They bought an organ.

I will say that I'm impressed with how polite people in the South are. Children are better behaved in public settings, and, if you're a customer in a shop or older than someone, they usually will address you as "sir" or "ma'am." (That's depending on gender, of course. They don't address you as both, unless you give them reason to be confused.)

The Southern accent is both charming and challenging. For example, both M. and I felt that our accents were amazingly flat and tuneless when speaking to native Mississippians. "How're y'all dough-in?" they drawl, the soft words dripping languidly off their collective tongue like a deep-brown cognac. "Fine," we'd say, our clipped accents starting and stopping as quick as a drill sergeant's bark. Or so it would seem--eventually, we both started picking up the accent, which I don't know if we're supposed to, because some Southerners take offense at that, I've read.

Anyway, we could *usually* understand what people were saying, with few exceptions. One night, we decided to have typical Southern food, so we went to a nice restaurant that specializes in that sort of thing. The waitress, a happy, young blonde, cheerfully announced her name to us: "Hello, y'all. Welcome to The Crescent Cafe. My name is Sheh-a-are-ah!" I smiled, nodded, thinking that her name was "Sherry," and that she'd simply done the Southern drawl thing. Later, though, M. and I overheard her conversing with another table, which made their confusion known: "Say, what's yo' name, sugar?" "Sheh-a-are-ah!" she replied, "Y'all know, like Sonny and Sheh-a-are-ah!" Ah. Cher.

Once again, though, we have been so blessed, incredibly, totally blessed for everything to happen the way it has, and we are thankful. Very.

A variation on "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

The top ten things we've observed that tell us we're in a very different place...

1. The "Elvis is Alive" Museum

2. The yellow bucking bronco sculpture with "Jesus Saves" painted on it

3. A restaurant advertising a dish called the "Spicy Tongue-Smack Basket"

4. A BBQ joint called the Divine Swine

5. Baptist churches that are bigger than the state capitol building

6. An honest-to-goodness swamp and a crafty looking fox on the side of the road beckoning us into a briar patch

7. A farmer in overalls slumbering in a chair next to his truck full of fruit ("Jeff, is that a manequin?" "No, Mel, it's a real person.")

8. The lady asking Jeff in the elevator if he was going to church this mornin'. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Well good for you!"

9. Higher speedlimits (this is J.'s favorite)

10. Lower gas prices (by about 10 cents--every little bit helps)

The South will rise again!

We have arrived.

Well, not permanently, of course, but, as I write this, M. and I are in our hotel room in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. We've spent the day so far looking for a place to live; it's going fairly well, aside from the fact that not many apartment offices are open. The nerve!

Anyway, it was quite the trek getting here. Our plane was late leaving Salt Lake, but we arrived in Dallas with enough time to make our connection--however, the flight got canceled due to maintenance issues. American Airlines (Motto: "Buy your own ticket! Buy your own food! Buy your own freaking air to breathe!") trotted out another plane, but it wasn't big enough, so we had to jettison fifteen passengers. Somehow, Melanie and I were chosen and given the option of waiting for a later flight, in exchange for some vouchers. With some hesitation, we said yes, and it was a good thing we did--we actually arrived in Jackson, Mississippi earlier than the original flight did.

It took us about two hours to drive down to Hattiesburg from Jackson. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW RURAL IT IS. I haven't seen this many trees since my time in Costa Rica. Everything down here is carved out of the forest. Here are some pictures of us driving around:

I'm not complaining, of course--I'm simply amazed. It's like in the movie "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves," where Robin and Azeem and the blind dude escape into Sherwood Forest, and Azeem exclaims, "Only in my dreams have I imagined such a place." Yeah. Places like this still exist, I guess.

We've found one apartment complex that looks promising, and a nice member of the local ward here let us take a look around her apartment there, since the office was closed. Here's the complex:




Just kidding--sorry, I couldn't resist. No, the apartment looked nice, and it's big, and it seems to have weathered Hurricane Katrina well. (Interestingly enough, the lady said that Hurricane Katrina didn't seem all that big--that is, until she went outside and all the roofs in the city were missing and trees were on top of everything.)

Well, I'm sure more posts will follow. Everyone say it with me, now: EM-EYE-ESS-ESS-EYE-ESS-ESS-EYE-PEE-PEE-EYE!!!

An update

No, this isn't M. posting, but I'm tired of switching Google accounts every time that I want to post something--it messes up M.'s email 'n' such, and, besides, my hair no longer looks like that.

My cousin-in-law, the ex-spy who's cooler than all of us put together, mentioned that I haven't been updating the ol' blog as I should, and I concur. Thus, as my sister slumbers downstairs, I decided to post, because things have been happening. Things!

First off, M. and I are flying to Mississippi on Friday to check out our new Southern home (and, yes, Southern is capitalized in this instance). We have to find a mold-free place to live, so please pray for us. There's an apartment complex that was built back in 2000--not too old, although it did live though Hurricane Katrina--which looks promising. It's got big apartments, too.

M. is meeting with a potential employer, which is cool, and we've got to set up bank accounts, meet the bishop (seems like a nice guy, judging from the phone conversation we had), etc. I'm meeting with the creative writing folks at USM.

And, speaking of USM, I found out yesterday that I'd been awarded a teaching assistantship! This was splendid news, especially since I'd previously been told that it was pretty impossible, since I'd sent my application in late. However, we have been very blessed, and, now, I don't have to pay tuition. Boo-yah! Praise be!

More news will come, along with, I hope, pictures. Long live kudzu!

Catching up, I suppose

Dear all,

I apologize for the long absence in posting, but, alas, life continues to plod along like the proverbial sands through the ever-so-proverbial hourglass, and there isn't terribly much to report.

Don't get me wrong--things are going quite well. Our new (for three months, at least) condo is helping my health, and I'm feeling much better. (Actually, as a corollary to that idea, a new couple just moved into the ward, and, when I asked where they were living--and the husband of the family said that they were living in Clover Creek Apartments--I just cringed; sure enough, they're in our old place. I debated whether I should tell them or not--I mean, maybe they're like M., and they won't be bothered by the mold--but, in the end, I did. It was the right choice, since, when we got into Elder's Quorum, one of the brethren shouted out, "Isn't that the apartment with the BLACK MOLD?!?" when the new brother introduced himself and his address. I'm glad that it didn't look like I was withholding information or something.) Also, I'm running quite a bit now, since it's finally warm in Salt Lake City, and that makes me feel good, if sore. My tibias are screaming at me this morning, but, hey, let them scream. It's worth it.

M. and I (I'm still using the ultra-secret name protection method invented by some relative--I forget who, exactly...probably because the ultra-secret name protection method works so well...) went hiking up in Big Cottonwood Canyon last Saturday with M.'s cousin, J., and her husband, D., and their baby (wait for this one) M.J., who I will refer to as "The World's Most Well-Behaved Baby," because she is, and because M. and J. are already taken. So, yeah, we tried hiking to Donut Falls, this nifty waterfall that falls through a little ring/tunnel thing (hence the name) of its own creation. Problem was, there was still tons of snow up there, so we couldn't go all the way to the actual waterfall. It was still really pretty, though, and the air was pristine. I've become a connoisseur of good air, ever since the mold thing happened.

We're still working on getting the move to Mississippi squared away, and the first item on our agenda is learning how to speak with a Mississippi dialect. I've been told that locals pronounce Mississippi like, "Mizz-zippy," so I'm working on it, but it still feels foreign.

Anyway, there you go.

Oh, take me down South...

Dear all,

Hallelujah--our prayers have been answered.

And, judging by the response, we'll be saying, "Hallelujah!" a lot more, because M. and I are moving to MISSISSIPPI.

That's right--sing it with me, now--"Oh, take me down South [and you've got to capitalize "The South"] to the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten!"

I will be earning my PhD at The University of Southern Mississippi. Woot. Woot.