Sick

"You don't make a very good sick person," my husband said to me last Sunday morning as he countered my efforts to get up and make breakfast. "Just lie down; I'm making you breakfast." Although I was slightly frustrated that I couldn't do what I wanted to, I was grateful to have a husband who takes care of me so well.

Inventory had been that weekend, and I'd volunteered to take the Saturday night shift. 30-40 of us went through the whole of 'REI at College Park' to count every single item on the floor and in the warehouse. It was quite the ordeal. A lesson on using the scanner guns began at 7pm, all the customers were out of the store by 8, and by 8:05 we were set to work.

"Beep! Beep! Beepbeepbeep!" went the scanner guns from all across the store. If you were standing too close to someone (about 7 feet away or closer), it was difficult to tell whose gun was beeping. That became a problem if you weren't sure whether you had actually scanned the item in your hand, or if it was your neighbor's gun that had beeped. I had to recount 117 pairs of socks twice because I got to the end and was off by 1 or 2 pairs. Talk about frustrating. There were bags and bags of candy at the front of the store for general consumption (to keep us awake), and the food from Chipotle came around 10:00.

By 2 am or so everyone went home except for 3 of my managers, Julie, and me. We stayed and recounted some of the items that someone had obviously miscounted (eg: the computer showed only 2 kayaks having been scanned that evening, yet we could clearly see 4 hanging on the wall). We wanted the count to be as accurate as possible. Julie and I finally left and I got home around 4 in the morning. Scott had gone to sleep around 2:45 and had just gotten back up to wait for me some more, so we both crawled into bed exhausted.

Sunday morning dawned bright and way too early, and I couldn't believe the way I felt. I'd made myself sick off of too much candy and caffeine on Saturday night in an effort to stay awake and working. The idea seemed like a great one for awhile, until Sunday morning when my body simply crashed. The good thing was that it didn't take very long to recover - I just slept it off and was fine.

But now I'm ill once again, only this time it wasn't self-inflicted so I deserve all available sympathy. I'm plagued with a stuffy nose, a congested chest, fits of coughing, a headache (a little worse than the usual one), a sore throat, achy muscles, fevers that come and go, and an 8-hour-a-day work schedule. I drink a water bottle full of orange juice a day and then some, sleep as much as I can, and eat healthier than normal. Tonight's ice cream cone was the first bit of sugar I've had in 4 or 5 days. Scott helps out as much as he can and takes great care of me. He does most of the housework, plus makes me food (and makes me eat).

I suppose that's his job; besides being my husband, this time it was he that got me sick.

PGCC

I did it. I took the step. I did the research, filled out the paperwork, drove to the campus, stood in all the appropriate lines and finally came away happier but poorer.

Since I don't feel that between working two jobs (and commuting 45 minutes to an hour each way for one of them!), being a housewife, and teaching Primary I'm nearly busy enough, I've decided to throw some schoolwork on top of it all. I registered to take 3 classes - 7 credits - from Prince George's County Community College next semester, in an effort to be academically progressive between now and next January when I'll (hopefully) start attending the University of Maryland. For various reasons, my last semester at BYU wasn't great (okay okay so that's an understatement - I was put on academic warning for not taking the exams in half of my classes). I need to prove that I can do well in school before UMD will ever even consider accepting me.

It has been easy for me to talk of returning to school and finishing my degree, but it's very difficult to actually take the step forward and do it. I have a terrible fear of failure. As I was driving to the campus to register, I very nearly flipped a U-turn in the middle of the road and pretended like I'd never had the idea at all. It's too bad I had already discussed my plan with Scott - I couldn't back out. *sigh* I admit, though, that I do miss school, and am the tiniest bit excited to return.

And yet I'm completely terrified.

Adorable children

I honestly think that my niece Penelope is the most adorable child ever born. Cuter, even, than those babies in the Anne Geddes calendars. She's gotten to the stage where she'll coo and gurgle until someone pays attention to her, and if you catch her eye she starts giggling. It's wonderful. Of course I'm certainly not biased, even though I'm her aunt - my declaration is strictly factual. She's just the cutest.


While I'm on the subject of cute children, Cassy related a story last week about my nephew Porter, who is very smart and very practical. I'll tell the story in her words:

"I was asking Porter what he wanted for Christmas and told him we’d have to write a letter to Santa to let him know. He of course had a better idea, pointing out that Santa’s never even been to Washington DC and might not know how to get here. He said, 'I think I should just tell my Grandma instead.' "

The child knows where the money's at!!!

Initiation

You won't be granted a driver's license without proving that you can actually drive. It's not enough to just fill out the forms with your name, birthdate, and social security number. You have to get in a car, and with an instructor watching you like a hawk for any mistakes you might make or even think of making, attempt to navigate the roads. And you must pass. Marrying into the Albrecht family is similar to applying for a license. My wedding ceremony was like doing the paperwork - it was necessary, but not the most important part. After the wedding was over and the honeymoon behind me, I had to actually be a part of the family. Prove that I had what it took to not just survive but thrive as a member; get along with individuals and fit into the family as a whole. I needed to step up to my role as the wife of the second-to-youngest, newest daughter in-law, and aunt to five adorable children. Talk about pressure.

There are two requirements for being accepted into the Albrecht family. One, you must own and be willing to wear Texas A&M paraphernalia. Speaking harsh words against the Aggies is equatable to committing high treason - you just don't do it. Two, you must have been on a family trip. The Albrechts are big into family activities - not like going to the park or playing a friendly game of Scrabble, but like going to Italy or Spain or New York and playing tourist.

I have now completed both requirements. Carol (Scott's mother) gave me a white and maroon A&M t-shirt Thursday morning, which I loyally wore to watch the A&M vs. UT game the following day. On Saturday morning the family - all 14 of us - piled into 3 vehicles and headed for Boston. We spent the day walking the Freedom Trail, which took us to some of the most historic spots in the city. We found parking for 3 vehicles, piled out of the cars and bundled up the kids, saw two ships (the USS Constitution and a WWII destroyer), lost a child's hat, found a child's hat, carried the strollers up some stairs to a bridge which we ventured across (the metal under our feet rattling every time a car drove past us, which of course was often), walked past the town cemetery, saw the Old North Church, laughed when Porter and Taylor roared at each other (either like dinosaurs or like tigers - I'm not sure which they were being at that moment), walked through Paul Revere's house, fielded the kids' complaints about being bored and hungry while waiting for the rest of the group, found a place for lunch that was able to seat all 14 of us, continued on toward the Old State House - passing the Holocaust Memorial and stopping so that the kids could watch some street jugglers on the way - helped the children complete their scavenger hunt inside the State House museum, found the restaurant Leslie had picked out beforehand for dinner, waited while Leslie argued with the manager about being allowed to bring one of the strollers (which Sarah Ann was sound asleep in) to the table, ate, walked back to the car, and drove home. With 9 adults and 5 children, Albrecht family trips are never simple.

I have now completed my initiation into the Albrecht family, and it was nice to get it all over with in one weekend. I passed. With flying colours.

Addition to the Family

She's beautiful. Tiny, and fragile, but already showing signs of personality that just make her that much more adorable. Her big brown eyes take in the world around her as she explores her new home; she's very curious and just won't hold still. Saturday night I carefully held her while Scott fixed up her little bed 3 or 4 times over, fretting over it until it was just perfect. She seems to like it. Even though she hasn't woken me up in the middle of the night yet, every time I get out of bed I feel the need to go check on her, just to make sure she's okay. She always is.

What I really wanted was a dog, but Scott and I have neither the money, nor the space, nor the time to care for one. So, for now, I'm settling for a dwarf hamster. Eleanor is her name; Scott and I agreed to never name our pets things like Scampers or Spot or Fluffball. Though, I have to say, Fluffball would be an accurate description. Eleanor is only around 3 inches long (dwarf hamsters grow to be about 4), but she looks fat because of all her fur - particularly when she's standing on her hind legs and eating. I sometimes call her Fatso. I don't think she minds.

Eleanor is sleeping right now, but this evening sometime I'll be sure to take pictures of her and post them. I'm ecstatic - I now have both a husband AND a hamster to care for!

Some people are idiots

The first thing I heard was the screech of tires followed by a series of not-quite-indentifiable and rather worrying noises. They sounded as though they might have been made by a car rolling; thud, crunch, crunch, thud. Then a car door slammed and there was silence. I wasn't sure what had happened. I toyed with the idea of going to investigate; but the night air was so cold and windy and my computer game was so enthralling. The silence was broken by a scream, high-pitched and pain-filled. It made my stomach turn and I quickly determined that I would leave my warm apartment and venture outside to have a look. I brought my cell phone with me in case it was needed, and grabbed my blanket off the back of the couch for good measure.

When I first walked outside I didn't see anything, and started to think that the scream I had heard was the result of an early Halloween party. But then I walked around the corner and saw the gathering of people, and heard one of them yelling information up to someone in their apartment who was obviously on the phone with a 911 operator. As I got closer I could see whom everyone was gathered around: a girl lying on the ground, 13 by the looks of it, and named Micah as someone later said. Everyone was talking and yelling out different things, trying to pretend like they weren't just gawkers but were somehow involved. The girl-named-Micah's younger brothers tried to keep people from touching her. I suspected they were also trying to keep from crying. I looked around and realized that the series of thuds and crunches that I'd heard earlier were made by a car that not only hit Micah but also caused considerable damage to 3 cars that were lined up on the side of the street. I wondered where the driver of the car was. I gathered from people around me that the responsible car had been stolen, driven too quickly, and then abandoned by its driver when the accident occurred. No one got a good look at the man; it was too dark.

While we were standing around waiting for the authorities to arrive, Micah's brothers used my cell phone to call their mother, but without success. I took the blanket off my shoulders and put it on top of Micah so she would have less chance of going into shock. I was glad I'd thought to grab it. After a few minutes it was suggested that even this wasn't enough to keep her warm, so I quickly handed over my jacket as well - the hood would at least cover her head - and shortly thereafter another, heavier, blanket was brought out from somebody's apartment. Micah stopped shivering.

The coppers arrived first, and everyone started volunteering information about what they had/hadn't seen and what had/hadn't happened since then. A little bit of yelling on the part of the officers was necessary to quiet everyone down. The whole story was quickly pieced together after that, and one of the policemen called for a perimeter search to try and catch the jerk who had stolen the car, hit the girl, and bailed. Shortly following the arrival of the police came the firetruck and ambulance; the EMS workers attended to the girl and yelled at everyone to go home. I was allowed to approach Micah - but only quickly - to grab my jacket and the two blankets; after returning the heavier blanket to the rightful owner, I chose to head back to my apartment.

I can still see the flashing lights outside my window, though the number of them is going down as the emergency vehicles and police cars leave one by one. At this point, there is nothing left for me to do but leave it up to the authorities and medical professionals to take care of the situation. I just hope the girl is okay.

And I hope they find the stupid git who did this.

Take 2

"Attention guests of REI, both members and non-members alike. We would like to inform you that the time is now 9:00 pm - and that means the store is closed. Please make your final selections and bring them to the front, where Tarythe would love to help you at one of the registers. Don't forget about our Attic Sale coming up this Sunday; doors open at 11.
The current temperature outside is 67, with a wind of about 3mph. You can expect some showers over the next couple of days, but it should clear up over the weekend. Temperatures will continue to drop until they reach a high of 57 on Friday, and then start climbing. Have a safe journey home this evening and a great night."

The weather report was an idea I had stolen from a previous manager at the Creamery, who not only gave us the weather but reminded us that even though the Creamery closed at midnight, Wal-Mart was open 24 hours a day and available as a local hang out. I had mentioned this to some REI coworkers of mine, who thought that I should report the weather during the closing announcement as my trademark. Most of the store appreciated the difference in routine. Geromy, the closing manager Tuesday evening, did not.

"Hey Tarythe, I loved the part about the Attic Sale, good job promoting that, but what part of the announcement do you think was not as appropriate?"

I looked down, embarrassed. "The weather," I replied.

"Exactly." Geromy's face was kind, but insistent. "The weather isn't really REI-specific. Let's keep the announcement to things that pertain to our store, alright?"

"Okay," I said. I tried to hide the tears that I could feel welling up behind my eyes, very much against my will. I hate it when people chastise me, particularly people whose respect I'm trying to earn (like my managers). Geromy started to walk away, but I called after him.

"So what if I talked about the cold weather we have coming up and used that to encourage people to buy our winter gear? Would that work?"

Geromy turned around and grinned, obviously pleased. "Now you're thinking," he responded with a wink. "Run with that."

Wednesday night came and I was once again closing, determined to improve my performance. As the hour approached, I wrote down what I was going to say to reduce the number of mistakes caused by my nerves. With paper in hand and heart pounding, I clicked in to the tannoy system.

"Good evening guests of REI, both members and non-members alike, we hope you've enjoyed shopping with us this evening. We would like to inform you that the time is now 8:45 pm, and the store will be closing in about15 minutes. Please take this time to make your final selections and bring them to the front of the store, where Tarythe would love to ring you up at one of the registers. The current outside temperature is about 64 degrees, but it will be cooling down by the weekend so make sure to stock up on our great winter gear, located at the front of the store. Don't forget that the North Face Cryostat 3-in-1 jacket is currently on sale for $194.99, available at the front of the store straight across from the registers. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to find someone wearing a green vest; any one of our very knowledgeable staff members would be more than happy to assist you. Thank you and have a great evening."

I had thought that Geromy had gone home for the evening, so I was suprised to see him out of the corner of my eye holding a water bottle and walking towards me. I asked him teasingly, "So was that better suited for REI's purposes?" He laughed and said that I had done a great job, and oh-by-the-way he thought I might like a brand-new Novara water bottle - no particular reason.
He had obviously heard that I lost my last one. I'm glad that he appreciated 'Professional Closing Announcement: Take 2'.

I'm also glad that my managers love to reward people.

1 point for me

I grew up recycling. All of my parents supported it, as far as I can remember; if they didn't actively encourage it, they certainly didn't have anything against it. My father and stepmother not only recycled things like paper, plastic, and glass, they went as far as to have a compost pile in the back yard. Inedible parts of vegetables and other food products were thrown into the compost container (my least favourite part of helping with dinner), and all eventually ended up as fertilizer. My mother would take me out to find cans in the desert to recycle; I could turn them in to the local recycling drop-off for money, depending on how much my stash weighed. So every once in a while my mother would drive me around in our little blue Volkswagen Rabbit at about 5 mph. I would open the door, sit as close to the edge as possible without my mother scolding me for being unsafe, and stare intenly at the ground as it passed, hoping for a glint of sun off of a soda can, or the ugly sight of a brown beer bottle littering the ground. I'm sure my mother spent much more on gas driving around than I earned with my recyclables, but she didn't worry with that. She did it for me; to teach me valuable lessons about doing our part to take care of the earth, and about the value of a dollar. It's not easy to teach those two lessons in one activity.

While I lived in Utah, I didn't recycle. I couldn't find a good spot in my apartment for an extra bin, nor did I want to argue with my roommates over the lost space or the extra effort they would have to spend remembering to throw their plastic bottles into the right bin instead of the left one. In addition, I had no car with which I could haul the paper, plastic, and glass to the nearest recycling center. So I did what everyone else in the area did and threw everything away, piling up trash bags on the outside of the huge dumpster provided by my apartment complex if necessary. Waste, waste, waste.

But since moving to Maryland - more specifically, since being hired by REI, a very environmentally-conscious company - I have remembered that I myself am environmentally conscious. Most of the time. I decided this morning to start recycling once again, and went to the store immediately (well, within 30 minutes) to buy a second plast trash can for recyclable items. I even inserted a cardboard divider into it to sort out the paper from the plastic containers and metal cans. Taped on the outside is a list of exactly what the local recycling center takes, in case I forget. Already my bin is half full of recyclables I found around the house or dug out of the trash can (I'm very thorough when it comes to things like this) and I can't wait to take my first trip to empty it.

It's things like this that make me feel good about myself, and life in general - the world is made a little bit better because of the pains I'm taking. Trees will be saved, air pollution will increase slightly less than it would have, and I'm sure that, indirectly due to my efforts to preserve the environment, starving children in Africa will be fed.

1 point for me.

Today I am Commodore Iron Mary Bonney

It's not unpredictable that I, like others in my circle of friends, will post today to honour the long-awaited International Talk Like a Pirate Day - pretty much my favourite holiday of the year. And so here I go.

I went to work today with a hand-made sign on my oversized nametag that said, "Happy ITLAPD". I had visions of every customer I spoke to asking me what ITLAPD meant, thereby giving me a chance to explain and spread the joys of this occasion. Unfortunately, time passed and no one seemed to notice my sign or wonder what ITLAPD stood for. (As Scott said, they probably assumed that it was an acronym for a really lengthy-named police department. Perhaps an offshoot of Los Angeles.) As I started into my 3rd hour of work, I realized that it was time to take matters into my own hands.

"Hello, welcome to FYE. What can I help you find? Oh, really? Well, you're in luck - we have that cd right over here. AND, did you know that today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day? In fact, we have some of the best pirate movies ever made right in this section over here."

"Hello, welcome to FYE. What are you doing to celebrate International Talk Like a Pirate Day today? Nothing? You don't even know what ITLAPD is? Oh, dear, that certainly is a travesty. Well, don't you worry - I can equip you with a movie that will be sure make this year's celebration terrrrific."

Since no one was approaching me with questions about ITLAPD, I chose instead to reach out to the uninformed and educate them. Some people didn't want to play along, but most were good-natured and humored me. It made work more interesting and I even got a sale or two off of it...though my manager now thinks I'm nuts.

Here's the way I described the adventures of today in pirate-speak to a couple of my friends:

Argh!!! I been waitin’ fer this day ever since September came upon us! Tis a day of true celebration and camaraderie! It seems th' land-lubbers of th' eastern seaboard aren’t to be knowin’ about this day. But never you worry – I took it upon meself to…shall we say…*inform* those scurrrvy dogs. And every one of those bloody lubbers who didn’t agree with me ways, well, I lashed ‘em to th' taff-rail and drove ‘em windward…or I keelhauled ‘em. Then I made ‘em all walk th' plank! Th' crew got a mighty good laugh out o’ that and I got all th’ booty I collected from those bilge rats before I cast ‘em into th' sea. Argh!!! Tis a fine thing to be a pirate!

Commodore Iron Mary Bonney

I'm most excited, of course, about watching The Muppet Treasure Island tonight to celebrate. Scott has yet to see it, for which I shake my head pityingly and say, "Oh, you poor, deprived soul..."

Julie, you know what I'm talking about.

A Stewardship

I went to church today and sat in with the Primary class that I'm supposed to take over teaching in a couple of weeks. The class is small; it consists of 2 regulars, and 1 child that comes every other week. We represent a fifth of the whole Primary - which is about 15 kids. (Supposedly we have more, but many are inactive.) 15 kids is a pretty small Primary, but in my last church ward the Primary in its entirety was 3 children large. So this is a step up. :) The current teacher hasn't been with the class for long, but her husband is being stationed in Japan in a few weeks and so Nina is moving, leaving the class leaderless. In comes Sister Albrecht to save the day.

The only girl in my class (I'm calling her Amanda) was very clingy today. Nina assigned us to groups for our skit activity, in which we acted out the story of Elijah and the false priests of Baal from 1 Kings. I played the 450 priests of Baal (now that's talent). The boys insisted on being in their own group, so Amanda and I were together. Amanda's face lit up. She did nothing without talking to me first, and begged to sit by me for the rest of church. It was as though I was the best friend she needed so badly. I've discovered that Amanda's situation is very similar to what mine was at her age. I feel that she is fragile but covers it up. I've been given a stewardship over these children and I'm teaching this class for a reason. I know there's something I'm supposed to do for this girl, but I'm not sure what. I'm terrified that I will mess up and miss the chance to make a difference in her life. I can only hope that I'm worthy of this assignment.

But I needn't be so worried; the Lord will guide me. He promised.