favorite song? Rhapsody In Blue by Gershwin. He's the man.
favorite article of clothing? dresses, closely followed by sweatpants.
favorite instrument? Probably an oboe, and of course, anything percussive. If that's a word.
favorite season? Depends upon where I'm living. Here, it's probably fall.
favorite herb? Rosemary or Basil.
favorite fruit? Peaches.
favorite waffle toppings? Nutella, bananas, and peanut butter.
favorite restaurants in the state of Utah? Guru's and The Bombay House.
favorite textile? Obviously, Marimekko.
favorite type of tree to climb? Well, pines often give the best view but the sap is a major downfall. If a cottonwood ever had a branch low enough to pull myself up with it would be a miracle. It's probably a toss up between a locust and and maple.
favorite bird? A cardinal.
favorite fall treat? Pumkin donuts and cider from the farmers market.
favorite insect? Fireflies.
favorite flower? tulips or lilacs or phlox. It's really subjective.
favorite artists? Norman Rockwell and Alexander Calder.
favorite form of transportation? Wings, but more realistically a zip line.
favorite unachievable talent? Walking on a slackline.
favorite type of music? Jazz.

for your joy and entertainment, my absolute favorite textile company. Seriously, you should see my room.

Summer Summary in 5 pictures

Being fed rocks by small innocent cousins . . .

Waging war on certain annoying deacons who were relentless in their attacks upon their superiors . . .


Expressing real feelings about being sun dried, windswept, and sleeping in a hot tent . . .




Driving through middle-of-nowhere towns and sampling their "unique" foods . . .
and hiking atop mountains in Canada.

Just Do It

"Run like your life depends on it . . . and know that it does"

Running is hard.
Running makes me wish I was an antelope while I feel like an elephant.
Running makes me rethink why I do things.
Running invigorates me.
Running gives me a feeling of ownership over hills, trails, roads, swings, rivers and the water behind the car wash.
Running makes me hate stoplights.
Running makes me insanely grateful for stoplights.
Running gives me odd tan lines.
Running is the only reason I wake up at 6:30 DURING THE SUMMER.
Running makes me look at a hill like it's a challenge to my identity.

Because of running I have pushed through in the dark on the top of a mountain, endured racing that I hate, love, hate, held luke-warm water in my mouth and sprinted for timpview, and freed my feet from the confinement of shoes and waded into the ice cold Provo river. But one of the best parts of running is the trust you must build with the teammates that push you to go harder and faster for longer.

#7

That was quicker than I expected. Becca and I were driving to my house at 11:20ish last night, and the sprinklers below the temple were on. And so, we pulled over and dashed through them screaming our heads off. It was colder than expected, and it wasn't even that warm of a night. Summer is glorious.

Dear Man child.
Congratulations on your newly acquired age.
Here are some driving tips not included in the Utah State booklet, which I believe will help you immensely.

1. When you go to the DMV to get your permit and they give you an eye test; the red dot you are supposed to be looking for are either to the left or right, not straight in front of you. Learn from my mistakes.
2. The speed limit on Timpview is 25 and the speed limit on Canyon is 35. You pick.
3. Eyes on the road, not on the zoobie couples kissing on the sidewalk.
4. There is a hidden stop sign in coming to the light by Zupas. Although this may not seem entirely important, mom seems to think so.
5. And lastly, but also most important, don't ever try to drive in high heels.

Kittens in the school bathroom

Yesterday during AP world I pushed open the door of the bathroom to find a wobbly kitten crawling across the floor. I couldn't decide if I was asleep or losing my mind. This experience continually got stranger as a girl picked up the kitten and stuffed it into her backpack. She smiled at me (the girl, not the kitten) zipped up the backpack, and sauntered out. Meow. Then, while I was outside enjoying the sun, I saw the same girl, playing with multiple kittens in the grass. Apparently Mrs. Bowers also found a tiny, poor, lost cat and was taking care of it. So beware. Kittens in backpacks aren't as rare as one would initially think.