Hiking Timp

The Mountain of the Lord

MY HIKE TO The summit sledding down

MT. TIMPANOGOS Steep hill quick steps

Slippery snow racing the light

Loose rocks bristling leaves

Yellow fields flashlights

Glaciers animals

Sand fear

Rocks music

Flowers forest

Open wet

Wet forks

Steps steps

Thanksgiving

I love being around family. I just talked to my younger sister, who is living in Hawaii going to college there. We talked to her through "Skype," which was fun, but I could not help but miss her and feel nostalgic.

This is the holiday that I miss home the most because it is the one that cannot be replicated anywhere except my Aunt Harvey's white columned, plantation home, porch complete with Nana and groupings of cousins, second cousins, family, friends, and that random addition to the circle that I don't know yet. I often recognize faces, but don't know how they are connected to our clan.

I haven't been home for Thanksgiving in over five years, but I can still smell the smells, and every year, I miss the hayride, the cold spread at 1:00, the Styrofoam cups reeking with potent permanent marker. My sister Erica says that she hasn't been back there for Thanksgiving in ten years; so we're trying to do it here. I tried playing "Crack the Whip" with my nieces from the west, but it's not the same as Becca or Diedra yanking our arms out of socket as they run us in circles with the sounds of laughter coming from the two story playhouse sitting in the cold grass and mud out back.

I miss the accents. I miss the off-color comments and seeing my Dad in his element, talking casually and energetic with his people. I miss my Mom fluttering around, helping Aunt Harvey with whatever prep work there is left, or hunting down her cakes that people are trying to steal instead of share. I miss hearing Aunt Barbara ask me, "how are you sweetheart or darlin'?" I miss hiding out with my sisters, watching Luke as he lays on his blanket, playing with my eastern and southern nieces and nephews, and then awkwardly trying to join in conversations with cousins who are my age, even though I didn't know them well.

Being out here in California is great. The macaroni pie is here. Some family is here. I am blessed, but I still feel so far from home. I dream of being back in South Carolina, where I make the annual trip to the tacky bargain barn. Man, I want to buy some cheap lipstick there or get some for free from Aunt Kay or Aunt Harvey.

Character

Halloween beckons.
It calls to my Inner child,
Which is why today,
four days before the Blessed day,
I am dressed as Nala,
A young lioness ready to pounce and pin.
Nala takes my reserved self and makes it
fiesty,
hearty,
and firesome,
which led me to tomorrow:

Katniss, the firegirl,
Young heroine of my heart.
I'm not the Mockingjay,
but I dream of being
Firegirl.
I can see my arms ablaze with fabric,
my bodice aflamed in
red,
orange,
and yellow.
My hands burning their gloves.

on Friday, I will be someone.
Some identity I love.
People may not
Recognize the
Nala
or
Katniss,
But on the inside:
I am changed.
I am a character.
I see many characters.
I can be many characters,
Characterized and selected
by my
Secular Worship.

FHE-Pumpkin Painting turned to Face Painting for those with a small attention span...

Before:

After:

Basically, after I painted a dot on David's face, he grabbed mine and gave me a mustache, a uni-brow, and a beard thingie. I suppose I should have known it was coming. I love Fall.