Thanksgiving! (In April)

I tried to hold off posting my list of thanks this past year, but I was riding the train the other day and I felt like I needed to post it. Whenever I feel anxious or discouraged, I try to list the things that are going right or that I'm grateful for, and it helps me turn my thoughts around. Steve and I turned this into keeping a "grateful journal", which I was a little embarrassed about the clicheness of it, but I think writing our thoughts down helps in ways that just thinking can't. Also, I do not think I tell people thank you enough, so maybe this will serve as a small way to say thanks as well.

Thank you:

-Steve for being the world's most patient and positive husband
-Mom for being my first best friend and teaching me how to do everything and pushing me to be my best
-Dad for being such a great example of service, kind words, and good humor
-Vicki for being such a loving and accepting mother-in-law (and liking the same gross things)
-John for always making me feel welcome and loved
-The Siblings (all of them) for making me laugh, making me stronger, and supporting me in everything I do

-My students, for showing me how much I have to improve, but loving me and forgiving me
-Coworkers, for being the best support I could ask for. And giving me someone to laugh with, when things just get too cray-cray.
-The number 3 train, for having the last stop of "New Lots Ave", somehow always lifting my spirits in a weirdly poetic way
-Callaloo, the best spinach ever
-New York, for the best of times and a lot of pretty bad times that make the good ones great.

Ruth Wilson Adams

I am currently in a gerontology class at BYU and we had an assignment to spend 10 hours with a senior, just hanging out and talking with them. Because I am graduating and moving away, I decided that this would be a great opportunity to spend some time with my Grandma Adams (my paternal grandma). I was able to spend a lot of time with her at family dinners and by visiting her at her apartment and I’m really grateful for the excuse to go up and see her.

            My grandma, Ruth Wilson Adams, was born in the 1920s in Midway, Utah. She was the second oldest in her family and she got along well with her brothers and sisters. Her father died while she was still young and times were really hard for her and her family, but they managed to take care of everything that they needed to. Because times were so hard, often the most her siblings got for Christmas or birthdays was a large puzzle they could do together. This was an important family activity for her and her family and she has loved doing puzzles all of her life. She always has a million puzzles at her house and they are never the same ones. One thing that I remember very well about going to her house while I was growing up was a completed puzzle of Neuschwanstein Castle hanging on her wall.

            My grandma told me that she sometimes would miss the bus to school, in Heber, and would have to start walking. She said that she very rarely would end up walking the whole way because a lady in her ward would end up picking her up pretty regularly and dropping her off on the way to work. She enjoyed school and one of her aunts taught in the school she attended. She was very good at math and science and shorthand. She had a calling as the Sunday School secretary while she was growing up and took minutes during the meeting. Ruth said that she enjoyed the calling because she got to sit up on the stage and she felt important. She also really liked being able to look at the audience and see what they were doing. She still remembers the day of Pearl Harbor. It was a Sunday and she was sitting up on the stand. When the boys were passing the sacrament, one of them dropped the tray. She said that she wasn’t really worried about what would happen, because she felt safe in Utah because it was so inland.

            When she was in high school, Ruth began working for the ration stamp office as a secretary. She kept track of assigning ration stamps and did other office work. She often caught a ride into work with friends. She even kept some of her old ration stamp books and put them in her memory book. She really enjoyed that job and felt like she was really growing up.

            Next came college. Ruth was accepted into Brigham Young University began attending when she graduated from high school. She majored in chemistry and lived in Amelia Knight Hall. She remembers that she lived right over where her chemistry classrooms were, which was right next to the mailroom where she worked. At BYU, Ruth met my grandpa, Arza Paul Adams. They fell in love and got married in 1945 (maybe 1944). They moved up to Pleasant Grove from Provo to live with Paul’s parents on a turkey ranch. They lived in a small shack made out of two turkey coops separated by a plank for about a year. Ruth said that she was so pregnant and the house was so small that she had a hard time moving around the bed. Her mother-in-law brought her down to the main house when she was far along to make sure that she was taken care of. After a few years, they were able to move into a small house, aptly nicknamed the “little house”, next to the main ranch house. They lived there for a few years while Paul finished school and had the first few kids.

           Next, they moved to Iowa, so Paul could study for his PhD in microbiology. They lived there for a few years. That was the first time Ruth had lived outside of Utah, as her family didn’t have very much money to travel. Reflecting, she said that she wasn’t scared to move outside of Utah and away from her family, but instead felt excited and looking forward to the opportunity. She said that they made many lasting friends and one lady especially took her under her wing and helped her. Paul and Ruth continued to have kids (with more to come).

            After Iowa and a brief stint in Salt Lake, Paul was offered a teaching position in North Dakota. Ruth liked North Dakota, but wasn’t a huge fan of the weather. The winters were a little harsh for her liking. She had a few more kids (including my dad) and had her hands full with her young family.

            After several years in North Dakota, Paul, Ruth and co. moved back to Salt Lake. Paul was offered a job by the Deseret Test Center. In a few years, he would be transferred to Dugway, in the West Desert, where he would spend most of the week at an apartment there, while Ruth took care of the family. They completed their family, with the final count being 12 children (with 2 stillborn children in addition). Ruth began taking classes to finish her bachelors in accounting and had her last son, Dan, during finals week. She was worried that she wasn’t going to be able to finish, but she said that it would work out and nothing would stop her if she could help it. She continued on and received her masters and her CPA. Ruth worked on many family accounts and always helped everyone with their taxes every year.

            After Ruth graduated with her bachelors, a tragedy struck the family. The third oldest child, Jim, was killed in a car crash. Ruth still talks about him and the family remembers him fondly. He was “one of the dark haired boys”, as half of the sons were blonde and half had brown hair. He had been married, and as a testament to the love and acceptance of Ruth and Paul, she was invited to live with them and she continued to be a part of the family until she passed away. She was always known as our aunt, and she remarried, and her new husband is thought of as an uncle. Although he is a few degrees removed from being blood family, my grandparents always made sure he felt at home and a part of the family.

            In the mid 1980s, Paul and Ruth were called on a mission to England. They enjoyed their mission very much. They were also able to travel many places. Ruth expressed much gratitude for the chance to be able to see so much of the world, for being a little girl from Midway, Utah. She loved walking on the Great Wall of China and seeing so much of Asia. Her favorite place was Switzerland. Her grandparents came from a small town in Switzerland named Wengen. She was able to go there with her husband and she met her distant relatives. She was even able to see the house where her grandparents grew up. That was a very special experience to her.

            Not much changed in the 1990s, except for the growing of an already large family. In 2004, Paul died from complications of diabetes. This was very hard on Ruth and she still misses him very much.

            My memories of my grandma revolve mainly around her house in Holladay. She always had a puzzle on the dining room table, which was surrounded by glass cabinets containing all of her many collections from her travels. There was a cuckoo clock in the corner which she took with her to her new apartment. She almost always had a quilt she was quilting for someone, or adding to her stock in case one was needed. There were always cookies on the fridge, which she gave us a few more than we probably needed. She also made the best homemade grape juice from grapes she grew herself. Today, she really loves Dr Pepper and nuts for her snack. She loves having little treats around her apartment, just like she did at home. The thing that I talk most about with my grandma is her family. She loves them dearly, even if there are too many for her to remember who everyone is. She at least knows who everyone belongs to, which is better than I can say for myself. She loves red nail polish and getting new clothes. She shows them off when she wears them. She likes getting her hair done.

            The most important quality I’ve seen from my grandma is her love of others. There are so many stories of my grandparents allowing others to stay with their family and accepting them as one of their own. She is always friendly and optimistic. Growing old has been hard for her, but she always greets it with an “oh well” and a laugh. I love my grandma very much.

Does Your Steve Do This?

Finally, I actually have something that is blog worthy, I believe. And something I want to take the time to write about...Steve!

This past weekend was Valentine's, and it was our first being married. We decided to hold back a little on price and just do something small for each other. Steve got V-day proper for his surprise, and he's still waiting on mine. There aren't any pictures, but I hope you'll forgive me (I had 10 hours of class that day). So I'll fill in with google for your viewing pleasure. 

Steve got me snapdragons and lilies, two of my favorite flowers. They were super pretty! He also surprised me with a three-course meal he cooked himself- fennel salad, shrimp scampi, and chocolate raspberry tarts. I was super impressed. He did such a great job! He also surprised me with balloons and candles. I've got a lot to live up to for my surprise! 

Next up...Steve and I went skiing on Saturday with some of his friends from Ohio (Jim, Rich, and Rob). It was good to see them and it actually made us get up to Alta! I was super rusty, but at least I wasn't sore the next day. Steve did super well and he went down his first blue and also his first black diamond. Hopefully we get to go a few more times this season, because it will be our last in Utah for a while. 

Last, but definitely not least, Steve did a workout from Pinterest with me! How many husbands would do that? And I think he liked it. He at least didn't complain at all. My family is doing a fitness program where we're all trying to do a certain amount of exercise per week and keep up on nutrition goals, for a monthly reward, and a larger quarterly reward. Steve and I have been trying to come up with good exercises to do together that are fun and are more like sports/activities rather than exercise. Any ideas?

I come from China...

So I realized I never actually posted this, but enjoy (a few months late)!

Steve and I have been having a great time! But unfortunately, great time = no blog posts. But we've been able see so many things, and here's a brief overview:

A few weekends ago, we visited a seaside resort called Beidaihe. It once was the Communist Party official beach resort and Mao would often go there because he loved swimming so much. It was a two hour train ride through beautiful country. When we got there, we were told that only two hotels in the entire city could house foreigners, something having to do with our safety. One lady was saying that if we stayed at a different hotel and something happened to us then people would come after them. Basically it's now the official beach resort of the Russian mafia. It was nice, but everyone there was either Chinese or Russian, so naturally everyone thought we were Russian. I was super grateful that Steve could speak Chinese. The beaches were okay and the water was a little green (who knows what from), but it was nice to get away from the city for a while.

On our way home, we ate lunch at the train station before we left. We pulled out some cards to play speed (by the way, I'm the current champion). A lady came over and just watched us play cards and smiled. When we stopped, she grabbed a card and said that the back of the cards look different than in China, but the fronts look the same. Apparently there's a playing card monopoly going on. She was with a group of mothers and kids from Inner Mongolia who had come to the beach. They all wanted to take pictures individually with us and we got a picture with all of them. There was one little girl who wouldn't let go of my hand until we asked her if she wanted to go back to America with us...oh please, not America!

Our next stop was another Communist Party hangout. Up in the hills by Beijing, there is an awesome park called Fragrant Hills, which has a ton of temple sites and old temples. Mao and some of his advisors lived there right after the "liberation".

So here is Steve with one of the two generals guarding one of the temples at the park. I told Steve that these types of pictures were the best, the ones that really show how you're feeling when you're about to get crushed by a giant several times your size, but he just couldn't get into it.

The picture above is of one of the Buddhas we saw. In both pictures, the red ribbons are of prayers or good wishes of the temple's patrons. You could buy them at the temple, or bring your own. Lots of them were pre-printed with prayers like "Be successful at work" or "Do well in school." The second picture is one of the many trees surrounding the temple that were covered with the prayer ribbons.

This picture is of the grounds of the temple. They put a lot of work into making sure it was atmospheric, and it was even better centuries after it had been planned. It was a nice place to go for a while and be away from the chaos of the city!

First Things First

China has a long, rich history and a uniquely refined culture.  This culture can be seen everywhere from the elaborate and deliberate tea ceremonies to the cacaphony of distinctive accents hawking various wares along even the most deserted streets.  But it is widely recognized that China's cultural peak, the point at which the various voices carrying its history rise in the grandest harmonies, is its English translations.  For example:

This piece captures the distinctly Chinese, and yet fundamentally human, desire to mold an imagination that is not only brimming with creativity, but that also expresses itself disarmingly and politely.  And what lofty goals this wild-eyed yet friendly policeman presents us with: not only must we practice self-restraint, we must in fact be self-restraint.

The fine art of English translation finds perhaps its truest expression when combined with the art of food.  Though it may seem distasteful, even barbaric, to the Western palate, lettuce child has long been a delicacy in the Orient.  In this case, the popularity of lettuce child evidently led to its price being changed not once, but twice.  Incidentally, ten yuan is a true bargain for such a child.

A distinctly Keatsian cadence and the imagery, I dare say, of a latter-day Whitman.  Who could even pretnend not to be moved?

Full disclosure, this translation is completely accurate.  And completely disgusting.

Of course, no mere survey could ever do justice to the art of English translation, but there will be more to come...

Steve

Tokyo Sky Club...Yes Please!

Okay, so we're on our way to Beijing, and we have a little layover in Tokyo.  It's turning out pretty well, and the Delta lounge in Tokyo is INSANE! Even though the pasta and sauce had potatoes in it (wait, oh yeah, Italians always mix potatoes in with their pasta!) there was quite a good spread.  They have chocolate cake, sushi with gourd, sandwiches, salad, soup, the whole shebang. And they even have this little treasure:

Yes, you may be thinking this is how you become the next Green Lantern, or even the Green Hornet, but alas, no. This is one of Fanta's long lost greats.  Steve says it's Green Apple, although I'm pretty sure it said it was Melon Soda. So you're thinking just taste it, right? Not so easy,  it really does taste like some strange combination of the two. Despite its lacking of superhuman qualities, the first cultural food experience (the soda, not the pasta) in Asia was pretty dang good.

So far it's pretty close to home, except for the heated toilet seats. If you're brave enough to sit down on one in a public place, I'm sure they're quite pleasant.  But even better, they have rooms where you can take showers.  Basically you have your own personal bathroom in an airport halfway around the world.  Pretty sweet. 

Plus there's this bonus that everyone somehow knows to speak English to us.....

America's Next Top Chef

Steve has decided to learn how to cook...and apparently the learning curve is non-existent for him because he already made this:

Grilled pineapple and brown sugar, mmmmmmmmmmmm. If Homer Simpson were here, he'd be drooling right now. And.....drum roll please................

Honey and hoisin glazed pork tenderloin on the barbie. Steve even trimmed the pork himself before cooking it. And a picture of the great chef himself ("Let me taste this for you").

In other news, Steve and I have started a book club.  The only way I can actually keep up on a book is if we read it together, literally (and literaturelly, haha). We just finished Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen. Definite good read, for girls at least, Steve kind of got suckered into it.

Right now we're a little ways in The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery. A lot of the references are over my head, so it's a learning experience for me and a teaching experience for Steve. Good thing I married into cultural literacy. The book is about a young girl and an older lady who hide behind what society thinks they should be, until a stranger meets them and sees them for who they really are. So far so good I think.


Meanwhile, as I was writing this, Steve was working on this with the disposal...

Sorry Bill and Lisa, we'll get you a new teaspoon.