The Demise of English

Sometimes social media makes me depressed because it makes it just a little too obvious how endangered our language is. 

Since when does y'all mean your? Maybe this is just southern English that I don't understand; I'll admit, I'm not completely familiar with that dialect.


It's almost as bad as the words I saw painted on the window of a diner last winter:
GET U'RE HOLIDAY PIES!
If you have to use text language on your window, please use it correctly. 'RE is short for are, all you needed was an R, which would have helped you save space on your window.


It kind of reminds me of this conversation from Castle:

Beckett: [Reading what's written on the wall in blood] “Psycho the rapist your out of time”?

Castle: Your should be You-apostrophe-R-E as in you are. That’s not even a tough one, not like when to use who or whom.
Beckett: You really think that’s the take-away here, Castle?
Castle: I'm just saying—whoever killed her also murdered the English language.

And to end my rant, here's one of my favorite memes:

Microsoft Phonology

Word has really been working on their spellchecker. It even gives suggestions for diacritical marks in phonetic transcriptions now. What will they come up with next? Pretty soon editors, linguists, and people in general will be obsolete. 

Temple Bucket List

A goal

without

a plan

is just

a wish

I have had a goal since my freshman year of college (2007) to visit every temple in Utah. All the temples between Provo and Logan were easy. I visited those in just a couple months. However, the outlying ones, Vernal, Manti, St. George, and Monticello, have been a little more difficult. Finally I realized something about goals.

If you make them happen, they do.

It just takes a little planning, a little determination, maybe a little time and money, but once you decide to just do it, it actually happens. So far this summer, I've accomplished more towards this goal than I have in the last six years. Granted, I was out of the country for one and a half of those last six years, but the point is, I let six years go by without making any progress toward a goal that took less than a few months when I actually buckled down.
So here's my progress:
I finally went to Vernal with my family. We visited all the dinosaur sites and made a weekend of it.

I finally went to Manti. I just grabbed Aubrie, Mary, and Chanel and drove down there. I don't know why it's taken me so long to get to Manti. I've lived in Provo for several years, and Manti is only an hour and a half away. I've been to Manti 3 times to see the pageant, but never had the opportunity to go inside.

It was such a beautiful day. I had a handful of family names that I helped my mom find and prepare for the temple. They were some of my German ancestors. My friends and I took the names to Manti and spent SEVEN hours in the temple. We did all the baptisms, confirmations, and initiatories for all of the women I had, then the endowment for four of them, and we were also able to do some sealings for Aubrie's family. It was a long day, but so rewarding to be able to spend a day performing every ordinance in sequence. I absolutely love the Manti temple. My mom has always said that the Spirit is stronger there, and I thought she just said that because that's where she was sealed to my dad. Well, it's true!
Maybe it is because that is where my eternal family began, but the Spirit there was stronger than I've ever felt it. It is the most beautiful temple I've ever been in. It's a true pioneer temple. I felt like I walked in just after it had been dedicated. So beautiful. (I also got to see the sealing room where my parents were sealed, and let me tell you, they must have spent six of the seven years that it took to build the Manti Temple just decorating that room.)

Then, just a few weeks after we went to Manti, Aubrie and I took a mid-week adventure/road trip down to St. George. We packed in hiking and letterboxing in Snow Canyon and all over town, Mary Poppins at the Tuachan theatre, and Love's Labour's Lost at the Utah Shakespeare Festival in Cedar City. But the highlight of the trip was the St. George Temple. We did initiatories and an some more endowments for my German ancestors, and it was wonderful.

So, now all I have left is the Monticello Temple (Until the Cedar City Temple is built and we'll have to take another trip down to Dixie). We planned to take a weekend and go to Monticello and then go camping in Moab, but we ran out of time before school started, so it will have to wait till I get a little break. But hey, I think I made some good progress this summer.

Job Security

So, sorry this is turning into my collection of typos/incompetence, but where better to collect them? Plus, let's be honest, I'm the only person who reads my blog anyway.

The same day I also read this at the end of a news article, which thank goodness, has since been corrected: 

"Funeral arraignments are still pending."

“It is never too late or too soon. It is when it is supposed to be.”

The Time Keeper by Mitch Albom

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I love Mitch Albom's books. They make you think about life in a different way and appreciate what you have. It's been a while since I read his other books, but this one may be my favorite.
The story is about Father Time; how he became Father Time; and how he must now help two people, one who wants more time in this world and one who wants less, learn to appreciate the time they have. It's an interesting commentary on the value of life and time. 

Some of my favorite quotes from the book:

"There is a reason God limits our days. . . . To make each one precious." 

“We all yearn for what we have lost. But sometimes, we forget what we have.” 

“When you are measuring life, you are not living it.” 

As a side note, I went to see "Nostalgia for the Light," a documentary comparing two groups of people who are searching for the past in Chile's Atacama Desert. Astronomers look heavenward to find answers to the origin of life and a group of women are sifting through the sand of the desert trying to find the remains of their loved ones that were killed and disposed of during the regime of the dictator Augusto Pinochet. 
The documentary brought up some interesting points concerning time and the delicate nature of it. One of the astronomers said that there is no such thing as the present, because by the time you hear what he is saying, time has already passed since he said it (I.Q. reference anyone?). It made me think about The Time Keeper and just how fluid and fragile time is. 
One of the astronomers, who was also the daughter of two of the political prisoners that disappeared, said that the reason she loved astronomy so much is because observing the vastness of the stars and galaxies helped her feel like maybe time and space went on forever, and it wasn't all over for her parents.
If only she understood the full truth about eternity and the plan of God. 

All of these things make me grateful for the knowledge I have about our eternal potential. Knowing that life goes on after this life, makes it a little easier both to appreciate the time we have here on earth and live it to the fullest, and to understand that this life is but a small moment in the span of eternity and the best is yet to come.

Google needs some new linguists.

I've actually been to Serbia and while I'm not fluent (okay I don't know any Serbian), I know that's not Serbian.

English. It's the new Serbian.

Does window paint come in editor red?

I saw this painted on the window of a restaurant today:

ORDER U'RE HOLIDAY PIES NOW!! 

It was painful. 

Right up there with getting a free desert with your dinner at the local Mexican restaurant. My question is, which desert are they handing out? The Sahara? The Mojave?

But I did not shoot the descender.

Just a little typography humor. Happy Friday.

An Unlikely Meeting with Destiny

An Invisible Thread by Laura Schroff


My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I love the way the author wove together her story and Maurice's story, into a autobiography/biography. She was brutally honest about the effect of drugs on alcohol on both hers and Maurice's families. The way she described their experiences, especially the complete absence of so many normal, structured situations in Maurice's life and the terror inflicted on her life by her father's alcoholism, made me want to force anyone who has ever considered taking a drink or smoking a joint to read this book. At times this book made me sick. It was encouraging, however, to see what a big impact her small actions had on Maurice and how the things she taught him by example and casual conversation helped him to avoid falling into the vicious cycle that everyone he knew was slave to. And of course, all she learned from Maurice and the role he filled in her life even though many people criticized their relationship was very refreshing. I recommend this book to anyone who wants a good read about the power of humanity to overcome the failings of society.

It wasn't even hard packed.

Apparently kids at my nephew Austin's school get a citation if they throw snow. 

My response: Just because he threw snew? 

Diagnosis: accidental sound repetition. 

Let's put it in today's terms. . .

My dad was telling my nephews Josef, Lasse, and Troy the story of David and Goliath. He asked them if they knew what a slingshot was. 

After thinking for a second, Lasse says, "Is it like a Angry Birds thing?"

Yes, Lasse. That's exactly what it is. 

(And apparently Lasse isn't the first to think of this connection.)

A little book review about a little story about words

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


World War II is one of my favorite time periods to read about. Combine that with my love of books, words, and the power they possess, mix in a sensible little girl, a father who always knows what to say, and a best friend whose antics and triumphs remind me too much of my brothers, and I really enjoyed this book. It felt like a book I would have read in 4th grade, and had it been around I no doubt would have, but I still enjoyed it as a 21-year-old, despite the education in German swearing (I learned some words even my nephews hadn't taught me). It was cleverly crafted and nicely narrated, and it made some profound points about humans, words, and the nature of life and death.



View all my reviews

The Bike Ride

The familiar smell of freshly cut hay, pungent sagebrush, and the occasional bovine is mingled with the tarry odor of recently poured blacktop. The melodious chirping of a sparrow watching from his wire perch complements the subtle click-click of the chain wrapping continuously around the gears and the rhythmic hum of the tires as the rubber meets the road.

The ticking thrum is interrupted every once in a while as you glide past a field of sprinkler pipe and hear the pst-pst-pst of the rain birds as if they are whispering thousands of secrets. You forgive the little birds for not sharing their confidences because the breeze cooled by the mist they emit is the only reprieve you'll get on this ride until the sun drops behind the mountain. As the zephyr hits the sweat pouring from your pores, the way it chills your feverish skin distracts momentarily from the lactic acid burning in every muscle and pushes from your mind how sore those muscles and your coccyx will be tomorrow.

You're pumping the pedals with strength you didn't realize you had. You tell yourself that there are as many downhills on the way home as there are uphills on the way out. It almost works as consolation until you realize that there are also as many uphills on the way home as there are downhills on the way there. Somehow breaking even just doesn't seem fair. If you can just crest this hill you can coast for a bit.

Despite your new-found strength, you can't seem to pull your own weight without heightened effort. No matter how hard you pedal, every vehicle that approaches easily overtakes your momentum, effortlessly pulling their full load of ton bales. The forceful gust and the hay that flies into your face does little to bolster your confidence that you will ever return home tonight.

Finally, after 13.2 miles, you reach the last impediment, the steep incline of your gravel driveway. Somehow you make it up to the house and collapse on the living room floor. Your energy is completely exhausted. And you've never felt better.

Nothing says summer . . .

like a bicycle modified for two.

Peter and I wanted to continue our routine of a daily bike ride,
but Austin was visiting and we didn't have a bike his size.

So, Peter, ever resourceful, rigged up a new apparatus to
attach to his new bike that would allow Austin to come along.

Sometimes I think Peter is just a little too creative.

The hardcore tandem bikers who passed us, accompanied by a rescue van, told Austin he was brave. I think they were jealous of Peter's homemade version of their bicycles built for two.

Chores

Dad is always leaving the lawn mower out.

English Blunder of the Day

Foiled by phonetic proximity of spelling!

Sunny Florida

I spent a week with Joe, Heidi, Henry, and Amelia in Ormond Beach. Here are some highlights:Joe and Amelia and drip castle #1.

Joe and Henry and drip castle #2.
Me and Amelia enjoying the beach.

This lovely picture is in the jungle that we floated through at the Springs. It was gorgeous and way better than the flume in Dayton. There were tons of fish just swimming right under us in the clear water. We had a lot of stick races under the bridges after we floated down until the sticks, including a red ant-covered tree limb chosen by Henry, became so big we were afraid they would be a hazard to the other patrons of the Springs.
The Ponce de Leon lighthouse.
The view from the top of the lighthouse.
Inside . . .
Outside . . .
And in case you are incompetent, but by some miracle can read or interpret diagrams, or your first stop once you got out of the jungle you grew up in was the Ponce de Leon lighthouse . . .

Racing at the Daytona Boardwalk Speedway. Joe lapped us three times.
A little luck at Aunt Catfish. This is where I ate Alligator and my first real Hush Puppy.

Henry's Graduation from Preschool. All day, he told everyone we saw, "I'm graduating." Earlier he had told me, "Now I go to Noah's Ark School. When we lived in the brown house, I went to Challenger School. And before that, when we lived in the white house, I was home schooled." I had never realized the pre-preschool was considered home school. Congratulations to Henry and Good Luck to him as he goes on to kind-er-gar-ten at Pine Trails Elementary!
Henry only looks like he's training to become an alter boy because Noah's Ark is run by a Lutheran church. Really, he was graduating!

On the weekend, we took a little road trip up through Jacksonville, St. Augustine--the oldest town in Florida--and Amelia Island, finally ending up in St. Mary's, Georgia.
Henry and a shrimp in Amelia Island. That ain't no cocktail shrimp.
From St. Mary's, we took a ferry over to Cumberland Island, Georgia. Thomas Carnegie (Andrew's brother) and his wife Lucy built mansions on this island for his family, and while a few of them still stand as inns and private residences, the main attraction open to the public is the ruins of Lucy's mansion, Dungeness. After the Tycoon Age ended, and her husband died, Lucy stopped using the mansion very frequently, and it eventually caught on fire and was never rebuilt.
Now the island is basically home to wild horses that are everywhere, rangers who maintain the National Park, and some vacation homes of the people who own Coca Cola.
Some romantics choose to be married on the island, usually at the Grayfield Inn that was once the mansion of Thomas and Lucy's daughter Margaret. As I was waiting for the Ferry to take us to Cumberland Island, I struck up a conversation with a man who pastors a church in St. Mary's. I asked him why he was dressed in a suit and tie when most ferry goers were in swimming suits or hiking boots. Turns out he was performing an intimate marriage ceremony on the island.

After we got to the Island I couldn't help but take a picture of the intimate ceremony. Just the couple, the pastor, and the photographer, right in front of the ruins of Dungeness, with only the tourists and wild horses as witnesses.

I hate the Fail Quail.

I was just trying to access the OED. I think alumni should get some benefits.

Handbag anyone?

Nothing says "redneck" like camouflage, pink pleather, rhinestones, and crosses.

I definitely live in Idaho.

Three things that have recently reminded me that I live on a Ranch:

1. Last week I was chatting with Amy and Camille and I told them, "A donkey just walked past my door."

2. My dad asked if I wanted to go for a long walk "just around the yard."


3. I'm looking forward to my mission so I can sleep in until 6:30.