Leaf peeping with Leslie

When we moved to Connecticut, we were introduced to the term "leaf peeping," which is driving around in the fall looking at fall colors.

I had always enjoyed that in Utah and Michigan, and now it was fun to have a name attached.
When Kevin went back to Ann Arbor for a conference and Leslie came to keep me company, we decided that would be a fun activity.

My leaf peeping started as I picked her up from the airport. It was still early October, so not many leaves had changed, but the further north I went the better they became.

I got to airport arrivals and was almost immediately invited to leave by security, since no standing was allowed (is this a normal airport rule? I have never encountered it before). Twenty seven seconds later, as I was heading to a nearby parking lot, Leslie came out and obliged me by walking over to the parking lot that I paid $2.66 to be in for about 3 minutes. (Sometimes my complex reasoning skills take a nose dive when I'm somewhere unfamiliar.)

But none of the security guard's rudeness or money mattered now! Leslie was here, and the party was about to begin. She had transferred the "Jammin 5-a-day" music from a tape to her phone, so we rocked out to old classics such as "The Salad Sisters" and "B is for Banana" as we drove to the temple.

I'm going to talk more about the temple later, but I'll just say it was absolutely lovely and I was glad we got to see it.

After the tour, we grabbed a quick lunch and then began some serious leaf-peeping. I had stayed up way too late mapping out the driving routes which would be closest to peak this early in the month, and we followed them as best we could. Both boys nodded off so we were able to turn on Hamilton music to pass the time without queries as to when the Scripture Scouts and Raffi would be turned back on.

this . . . was way cooler in person. You know how it is

We drove and drove and drove all around the northwestern corner of Connecticut oohing and ahhing about the beautiful colors we saw. The best colors were on the freeways themselves -- no billboards or houses to get in the way of the grandeur of God flaming out in iridescent reds and oranges. It was fun to have Leslie along to validate my excitement and sing the lyrics I didn't know.

We spontaneously decided to go to a state park on the route back toward New Haven. There were two or so very long, windy miles that were made even longer by Matthew's never-ending screams. But once we got out he was fine.

Not too much in the way of fall colors yet (that's what Google images are for) but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Lake Waramaug 

After a good little while there, we headed back to New Haven. After dinner and bedtime, I finally was introduced to Gilmore Girls. When you drive through Washington Depot, CT you can't help but feel a bit of an obligation to watch a show that was set there (renamed Stars Hollow). And it was good! Maybe I'll watch more of it sometime. When I have time. Which . . . I don't know how people have time to watch so many shows.


The next morning we walked downtown to the library. As we passed various Yale buildings, I recapped the history of controversies that took place there last year. "Any other questions?" I asked.

"I haven't asked any yet," she said with a laugh. Fair point.

After checking out a few more books and settling several railroad disputes (sharing is hard), we walked to the food trucks at the ice rink and got a huge helping of Thai food for a rather reasonable price. After naps, we headed to Joseph's favorite park, then home for dinner.

hi church!

All he ever wanted were her sunglasses.

The next morning, we reenacted history with a picture of her in a shirt she's brought each time she's visited us.

too lazy to find the other pictures. they look about like this.

Then we packed up and took her to the airport. Kevin was there waiting for us as we pulled up to departures so that I didn't have to go to arrivals and potentially see the impatient security guard (and also so that he and Leslie could say hello and good bye in passing).

Leaf peeping with Leslie had come to an end. It sure was fun while it lasted!

Fall sun with the Paulsons

The week before my dad came, we had a wonderful visit from Kaylie and Derek. They seriously deserved a gold medal for their efforts to see us. They had already tried once the week before to come (mostly to see Leslie) but turned back as the ETA inched later and later as the traffic got worse and worse, to the point that they wouldn't have arrived until bedtime. Since I would have taken Leslie to the airport the next morning, it didn't make sense.

But fast forward a week, and they were on their way again! This time they were able to avoid the worst of rush hour and arrived in time for a late dinner that still tasted good despite the bit of ketchup in it.

After dinner, we played Codenames and then watched a bit of the BYU game. Not only were none of us wearing BYU colors, but 3 out of the 4 were wearing the colors of the opposing team! Most of us went to bed before the game was over, but not all. It certainly made for a more pleasant morning to have a win!

I actually have a maroon shirt that used to belong to Kaylie that I could have worn, but I felt like there was enough maroon in the house as it was.

After breakfast, we headed to the temple open house. All the little kids did pretty well, and it was fun to see details I hadn't the week before. It was also fun to see pictures from all sorts of family and friends who went the same day as us, even if we didn't see them there.

Freeways in fall are on fleek

We then headed up to Talcott Mountain State Park for a hike! I was so excited about this. Even if it was just a Connecticut mountain, it was nonetheless a mountain, and I hadn't climbed one of these since Mount Timpanogos more than 5 years ago. The 20 minute drive there from the temple was a glorious drive through walls of red and orange trees under a bright blue sky. 

Despite seeing a large portion of Hartford's cars parked along the road, we had lucky enough timing to park both cars in the parking lot (along with some cars with Utah license plates . . . Turns out some BYU friends were there too, though we didn't figure it out until we were on Facebook that night). After lunch, we began our climb. We figured Joseph would be more amenable to the hike if he wasn't actually doing it, so while Derek and Kevin carried the toddlers in backpacks, Kaylie and I pushed her jogging stroller up the steepest, rockiest stretch of the hike, all the while hearing Joseph protest that he didn't want to be in a forest. That all changed when we got to the first scenic overlook.

A (slightly filtered) picture of what we saw. It looked more like this in person than the non-filtered ones, actually.

Right after this picture we all took off our jackets -- we didn't need them anymore!

he was never in danger of falling

After admiring that first view of the valley for a bit, we continued on. Joseph was a lot more interested in walking (there were hiking sticks to gather) which slowed us down but made it more pleasant. We alternated between being surrounded by beautiful trees and having a view of the valley, and it was just about perfect. Exclamations from Kaylie about how amazing this was and announcements from Joseph about how much he loved hiking only confirmed that this was the most perfect fall outing.

*

Matthew loved the baby carrier the Paulsons brought, and I didn't mind carrying him in it, too. Are we going to be baby wearing people after all?

When we reached the top, we heard old men singing "West Virginia" by John Denver with an accordion. We were also treated to "Ring of Fire" and other old tunes while we were up there. Turns out we had come the day of some kind of festival going on there at the top, complete with all sorts of concession stands. I feel like those are a bit easier to haul up a Connecticut mountain (1.25 miles each way) than a Utah mountain. We decided to not go to the top of the tower (thank goodness for Facebook friends who do so you can live vicariously through them). The walk down was fast and fun, and when we offered Joseph another ride in the stroller he told us that "hiking is funner." Wins all around.

Can you spot the accordion?

Just such a lovely day, especially looking up.

Back at home, the kids played while we figured out that we didn't want to cook. We drove through the castle-y part of New Haven (i.e. Yale) to get there. The choice for Joseph was clear -- he would get a quesadilla. If we had thought a little bit beforehand, we would have brought one from home -- it would have cost pennies, and we would have been sure he would eat it.

Instead . . . well, I now call the money you spend on a kid's quesadilla the "kid fee." You pay it not because you think your kid will actually eat it, but so that you don't feel guilty about the performances your kids put on. (You shouldn't feel guilty anyway, especially when they're this cute.)

After dinner, they felt it was in their best interests to abandon us. So off they went back to New Jersey. Even if it was short, we're so glad they came!

The month I didn't become wildly famous

I had two very little dreams for October.

The first one began in October 2014, when a hymn was published in the Ensign (as they occasionally are). I saw that and thought, "I would love to see my hymn there someday!" My ward choir was currently working on it, but I didn't know how anyone else would really hear about it. So I submitted it to the Church Music Festival, got an honorable mention, heard it performed on Temple Square, and then waited, hoping that maybe this October would be the one where it would suddenly show up in the Ensign. When I got the Ensign this month, I flipped through and didn't see any music. Lots of other great things, but not that. Not really a surprise, but it was a fun fantasy.

The other little dream came one night after Kevin was reading the spring BYU Magazine. "You should write one of these First Person stories," he told me. "Don't you have all these stairs stories from when you were pregnant?"

Intrigued by the $50 prize and another chance for fame and glory (ha!) I sat down and twenty minutes later had about 242 words describing my experiences with stairs for 9 or so months (max word limit 250). I proofread it a few times, added one word to give it more detail, and then submitted it.

When we got the magazine, Kevin flipped through it. "Your story didn't make it in," he said. Again, no surprise -- I had never heard back from them, and in retrospect they didn't want a montage. And that word I added. Rancid. To describe the plums. Was that the problem? Was "rancid" too negative of a word to describe an aspect of the BYU landscape? When you're in the throes of morning sickness "rancid" is just a word that describes most everything you smell, but it can come across badly without that context.

Anyway. Point is I did not become famous this month. (Not, of course, that two tiny little magazine pieces would catapult anyone to stardom, but it is fun to see your name in print.) But the good news is . . .  I still have a blog! And if you've made it this far into the blog post you may as well finish it! So without further ado, here are . . . supplementary materials to the Ensign and BYU Magazine.

I admit it is cool to have that blurb at the bottom added on

And here is my silly story about BYU stairs.

I knew that being pregnant during my master's degree would be tiring, but I didn't take into account the added difficulty from the stairs.

Each morning in the fall as I walked up to campus, I would dodge the fallen plums squished into the stairs and attempt to avoid inhaling their rancid scent. I had a speech prepared for bystanders in case my morning sickness got the better of me, but luckily I never had to use it.

As fall turned to winter and winter to spring I continued my daily trek up the stairs, pausing occasionally for contractions and to catch my breath.

Of course, it wasn't just stairs up to campus that caused me problems. There were still plenty I had to scale within each building. The day my thesis was due, I found out at about 1:56 that it was due at 2 rather than 5 pm. Clutching my thesis in my swollen hands, I dashed down the stairs from the 4th floor of the Clyde Building to the Former President's Home -- and I made it with seconds to spare, along with my 8-month-pregnant belly.

I took a break from the stairs after that for the next month. But the day before my due date, I decided to try the stairs up to campus one last time. 10 flights of stairs later, all I could say is that I hurt a lot, but still no labor. I'm sure though that all the exercise over the previous 9 months helped with labor when it finally occurred 5 days later.

I'm not really sad that neither of them made it into magazines, but they were fun to work on. And maybe someday something will make it in for real!

Post dinner conversation

"I'm done cooking for the week. I don't want to bring chili to the ward party."

"Well we never signed up so we don't have to."

"But we've got that corn we should use. Maybe we should take it and surreptitiously put some in someone's chili."

"I don't think that would look very good to just go around dumping stuff in chili."

"We also have this cilantro we could just sprinkle on people's chili."

"This sounds like a sitcom where someone calls the police because they think the soup has been spiked, and as the police are taking the culprit away he's saying 'I just needed to get rid of my corn!'"

Maybe we'll take the corn and cilantro to the ward party. Just in case.

A visit from a Grandpa Moon

I think it's finally time to give a more detailed look at life lately. Especially since we've had 3 straight weekends with family! (Would it have been better to have them all consolidated so more people could see each other at once? Probably. But one-on-one is good too.) So, without further ado, I will work backwards, starting with this weekend.

We were happy to find out that my dad would be able to come this week.  He's been in Princeton for a few weeks, but because he's been busy we weren't sure if or when he would make it up here. He managed to get a lot done before Friday, so by early Saturday afternoon he was here!

Unlike the glorious sunny weather last week, this Saturday was cold and drizzly. Any hopes of going on another little hike to see fall colors was dashed. But that didn't matter, because Grandpa was here to play! Before he came Joseph stood at the window waiting for him, and while I was upstairs frantically folding laundry (that I didn't finish . . . errands went long this morning leaving little time for folding) I heard him knocking on the window and giggling. After Grandpa had come in and eaten a little lunch, Joseph gave him his card with "FALL" written on it, covered in beautiful red and orange and yellow crayon (to indicate that there was a fire and a fire truck, of course). Matthew snuggled up to him immediately and insisted on stories. Joseph just wanted to tell him everything (and have repeat it back, of course, as is protocol) and thought it was pretty special that he had two Grandpa Moons.

After a bit of playing, we decided to go to the top of East Rock. We hadn't been yet, and we figured that since we could drive to the top it would be the least painful way to see nature on that rainy day. So up we went.

Don't my dad and Joseph look exactly alike?

The view of New Haven from East Rock

This little city has grown on me.

A windless, balmy day.

Joseph needed an extra jacket, so Kevin went without.

The tower at the top commemorating several early American wars. Side note -- it felt like we had climbed pretty high, but we were only at 366 feet!  

Cute boy with red nose and blue lips and exposed legs.

After that chilly excursion, we headed home, made some plans, and decided to get some New Haven pizza. Then, because we couldn't turn down more free food, we went to the Institute Date Night. The idea was my dad would join us at the table, but he ended up hanging out in the nursery learning a new programming language (which was fine with him, and I don't know how we could have kept my maiden name a secret for too long with him chatting with the others). As it was, some people saw him with Kevin and said, "So your dad is in town?"

And, as it turns out, the dinner was a bit heavy at the top of the food pyramid. I guess when you have Halloween-themed side dishes assigned out potluck style, sugar cookies are a pretty versatile treat that can be cut out in several Halloween-esque ways. After 3 slices of pizza and a bowl of ham chowder, I just didn't have it in me to eat all the treats. Even when the garlic bread came around I could only eat a small piece and got teased for my Sacrament-bread-sized portions. And even then, this morning I still felt so junk fooded out that I ate baby carrots with my breakfast!

Shortly after said breakfast, we headed to church. Someone asked if Kevin would translate for the Spanish speakers but he couldn't because he was giving a talk.

"I'll do it," my dad said. The Spanish coordinator asked his name and he gave it.

"Oh, so you're Kevin's dad!"

"Father-in-law."

"Oh," he said. Blinked a little bit. "That's right." That's what they all say. So off he went to translate into faulty microphones while Kevin and I began our wrestling match with Matthew.

The rest of church went pretty well -- Kevin did a good job shortening his talk, my Sharing Time lesson went fine, Matthew fell asleep, etc. We went home, ate leftover pizza, and then decided to take advantage of the unexpectedly sunny and mild weather to go for a walk in a nearby park.

We didn't take any pictures of the wedding going on. We have crashed so many weddings I've lost count.

This secret passageway was not creepy looking at all.

He raked a pile of leaves and then fell into it.

Since it was sunny, we thought we might like the top of East Rock Park better compared to yesterday. As it turned out, everyone else had the same idea as us so it was crowded and cigarette smokey. And windy. But, the view was a little better.

We came back, let Grandpa have a well-earned nap, played some riveting games of Paw Patrol and Chutes and Ladders, ate some pumpkin roll, and then said goodbye to Grandpa so he could enjoy some 5-10 mph speeds on the ever wonderful I-95.

We have some boys who sure love their grandpa, so hopefully we'll see him again soon!

A sense of wonder

A few months ago, I realized I had never heard Joseph mention any smells, good or bad. I wondered if he maybe didn't have a sense of smell.

It was pretty easy to test -- I put scented lotion on different arms and asked which one had the lotion. He passed that test multiple times, so I stopped worrying, but he still seemed not to care about smells despite our encouragement. We would have him smell a flower and ask if it smelled more like a flower or more like, say, pizza, and he would usually guess wrong.

And then all of the sudden, in the last month or so he suddenly cares a ton about smells! He noticed dirty diapers and brownies and grills and leaves and all sorts of stuff. Because I sprayed disinfectant where we found mouse evidence, I think he associates the smell of cleaners with mice so he has been telling me today he smells mice when it's really just that I cleaned the bathroom.

The best part of this transformation is that cooking has become more gratifying. He came in while I was making dinner and announced, "It smells SO GOOD in here! It smells like meat!" It was actually meatless fajitas I was making (he was just smelling seasonings), but he was even willing to try it sans meat. After all, as Kevin pointed out, things usually taste like they smell. He spit out the bean as soon as it was in, but that was more than he's done before.

Point being, I'm glad he's discovered the magical world of smells.

Top Ten Reasons I'm Blogging Less

Hi friends! I still think about this blog and how much catch-up I ought to do.

Here are some reasons why it's not happening as much as it should . . .

10. I'm too busy standing on my couch waiting for Kevin to come home and get rid of the mouse that decided to take up residence in the house to write a blog post. (It landed on the sticky trap this morning, so hopefully that won't happen again.)

9. My laptop (which actually isn't mine . . . I started borrowing it exactly a year ago from my parents) likes to crash a lot. A lot a lot. I'm amazed it hasn't crashed while writing this (other than the fact I can't add any pictures to this point).

8. Kevin just dropped his phone on Friday and the screen shattered. That has nothing to do with this list but it was pretty sad so it made the list.

7. I got called as 1st counselor in Primary, which in this ward means I do a lot with Scouts. So that's been taking up time with the occasional meeting.

6. The Hartford Temple open house is going on, and I've gotten to help play piano in the reception tent. This week I think I will help out as a tour guide, too.

5. Sometimes Matthew's nap is short.

4.-2. I wish I could say it was cool reasons like reading a great book (the library keeps hiding the Hamilton biography where I can't find it and you can't place holds on books that are on the shelf) or working on crafts (I wrapped a fall-looking towel around a pillow to make it look more festive, but that's it) or teaching an adjunct class (I did look into it but Connecticut isn't one of the permitted states for the BYU-I online stuff). But there isn't a real reason like that. I have no clue what I've been up to most evenings. Washing dishes? Looking at foliage maps? Not watching debates?

1. So, I guess the best reason I've been blogging less is because we've been able to hang out with family!!!! While Kevin was partying it up in Michigan, Leslie came to keep me company, and Kaylie and Derek were persistent enough to try two weeks in a row to come, and the second time it worked!

I guess that's a pretty good reason to not be sitting at the computer uploading photos. There will be plenty of time for that soon enough when winter comes.

At least, as long as no more mice come in. That can sort of take over an evening.

Super Great Basin

I have been good lately about writing detailed letters to my missionary siblings about all the fun things we've been up to lately -- the trip to Boston in late August, the bike rides, the playgrounds, the children's museums we went to before our pass expired, etc.

And, for whatever reason, since I've already written it down once, I don't feel like doing it again. I don't feel like letters and blog posts quite translate over for me, so I don't want to copy and paste them. Plus add pictures.

So what I'm saying is you might not get updates that way. My sister Leslie was in town Thursday-Saturday while Kevin was in Ann Arbor for a conference, so maybe I will blog about that.

But not tonight.

Nor will I blog extensively about the latest political outrage and my corresponding rants. I have just one quick thought that makes me infuriated so I will bring up just a little bit: There is a lot of ugliness that has surfaced in the past 16 or so months (oh heavens, this debacle has been going on longer than Matthew has been alive), and . . . the Clinton campaign and DNC are complicit. They actively encouraged positive press time for the looniest and slimiest candidate alive. Why? Because they wanted an easier win for their candidate at the expense of the nation as a whole.

I think this should frustrate everyone -- especially Clinton supporters. There really are reasonable arguments for someone to support Democratic policies, and one would hope they would have merit on their own without completely suppressing the competition. To say that her arguments wouldn't stand a chance against arguments from someone such as Rubio or Kasich is insulting to everyone's intelligence.

But then again, maybe there isn't that much intelligence in the nation to be insulted. After all, plenty of people still don't even care that a candidate for president is proud that he gets away with assaulting women. Because at least he's not Hillary Clinton.

Long month ahead of us. We all want to think Trump is done, but I have seen lots of Trump signs in rural Connecticut and Kaylie has seen lots of Trump signs in rural New Jersey (which are both states that usually bleed blue) so there may yet be a surprise. All I ask is that Utah vote for Evan McMullin instead of Donald Trump.

Whew. That was more extensive ranting than I was expecting.

Let's switch from ranting to dreaming. I have mentioned before I know what I want in life -- a house a certain size and a certain age and a certain cost, a yard a certain size, a certain distance from family, etc.

I've realized a few problems with my dream -- one is that Utah is too crowded. (By the way, part of the dream is being in Utah close to family.) I mean, most of it is super super empty (I didn't realize how empty Utah was until I realized how empty Connecticut is, and it's one of the densest states), but then you've got this small area 80 miles by 10 miles with a few million people squished between lakes and mountains and only crazy-busy I-15 to connect it all. Not all of it is crowded, but more and more of it is getting filled in every year. I imagine buying a house and every year my expectations go down a little bit as the costs rise and the lots shrink.

So here is my dream instead.

Once upon a time there was a state called Nevada that wasn't really that lovely (except for Lake Tahoe and the occasional national forest, I guess). It was mostly desert. But then the climate changed and the rains fell and the underground reservoirs came out of nowhere and then it turned into lush land with gentle rolling hills and forests and meadows and rivers that looked like the eastern United States.

Gradually, it got built up enough to have a really great university and lots of good restaurants there, but the traffic was never bad. Since it had previously been a desert there weren't too many physical landmarks in the way of building a few different freeways for people to get around. (This, by the way, is how lots of the US is, including Michigan and Connecticut.) Remembering its desert past, it was never humid in the summers, but it still rained enough there to keep it green. It was still landlocked so there were no hurricanes, and tornadoes were no more of a worry than they were during the desert times.

And then we moved there. And lived within a half day's drive of grandparents and real mountains. The end.

I am sure there is some geographical benefit from having a big pile of desert between the Rocky Mountains and California, but right now this is what I would rather have.

ps -- Okay, I have learned way more about Nevada than I was expecting doing this spur-of-the-moment blog post. There are some pretty green parts, and some mountains. But on the whole it's pretty barren.

pps -- this story doesn't have to be about Nevada. Western Utah, eastern Utah, western Colorado and Wyoming, southern Idaho, and southern Montana are all welcome to have this magical transformation. (And . . . it would be nice to have Kevin's dream job in these locations too.)