A Decade Later

"Hello, Fritz."

"Hello darling," he said, hardly even looking up from the paper in his hand as he walked quickly past, mumbling to himself. He looked very busy and important - a favourite pastime of his. "How are you?" I asked, a little more loudly so as to make him stop traveling the direction in which he was - away from me and out of the room. This time he looked up. "I'm fine, thank y--?!!!" The end of his sentence dropped off. He had finally realized who he was speaking to. The next 3 seconds of his stuttering speech are not appropriate to repeat here, as they would have made a sailor blush. He then picked me up and hugged me tightly, still unable to form complete sentences. I had done something very few people could - I had actually shocked Fritz into stutters and stammers. Close by us Jack Warren, who had also realized my identity, just stood staring. And when they found out I was married, I thought they were both going to faint.

The last time I had seen Fritz or Jack was about 10 or 11 years ago - when I myself was about 10 or 11 years old. Fritz was living in North Carolina at the time, where he and my dad shared a house, and Jack was a good friend of my father who I saw on occasional weekends. Fritz used to make me eat my vegetables, tell me not to run in the house, and forbid me to go outside in the winter without socks or shoes. I also tried to use him as a scapegoat when I got in trouble.

"I think Fritz did it," I would confidently tell my father. "Are you sure?" he would ask me with raised eyebrows. "It was Fritz who took your fresh green beans and dumped them into the trash can?" "Oh, yes," I would reply. "He thought they looked yucky - not very fresh at all - and he threw them away so I didn't get sick on wilted vegetables." I smiled and patted my father's shoulder, hoping that would help. "But don't get mad at him, daddy. He was just trying to protect me." I was banking on the fact that fathers always forgive those trying to protect their favourite daughters from dangerous, wilted vegetables. Needless to say, it was me, and not Fritz, who received the spankings that night - not for throwing away my green beans, but for lying.

It was great to see Fritz and Jack this weekend, catching up and laughing because Fritz hadn't changed a bit in the last 11 years. We reminisced with stories like the one about the green beans, and about the summer when I begged my father for a dog and told him that for the times I wasn't around to take care of it (which was all but 8-10 weeks of the year), Fritz had happily volunteered. He of course had done no such thing. While we chopped vegetables and stirred the apples and stewed plums, Jack inquired after my mother's well-being and updated me with the recent developments in mutual friends' lives - none of whom I had seen for years.

In the end both Fritz and Jack kissed my cheek, wished me well, and swore to let my father know of his grave mistake. He had failed to inform them of their little girl's marriage.

Simple Words

"I want to go, but I'm not worthy," I told my bishop tearfully, looking down at my hands which were folded in my lap.

His face was kind, but he spoke seriously and I knew the words were not really coming from him. "Yes you are. Please don't punish yourself for the past anymore. Know with a surety that your Father in Heaven loves you." He made me look him in the eye as he emphasized his last point. "You are worthy."

I've been needing to hear that for 6 months. How can I possibly doubt?

God and Science

She might have been crazy. One of those loud-mouth-make-a-scene-holier-than-thou-look-at-me-I'm-a-Christian types of crazy. I'm not sure how to deal with those kinds of people.

The girl walked into the first day of 'Astronomy 101' 25 minutes late, which is never a good way to start a class. She had already missed most of the syllabus and the introductions. Professor Suarez asked her to do what the rest of us had done - say our names and why we were taking Astronomy. She only had one rule. We couldn't say, "Because it's a requirement" or"Because it's the science that takes the least amount of math". Even if those are the reasons, it shouldn't be very difficult to make up something like, "I want to learn how to find my way around if I'm lost in the woods."

"Well, because I have to." The girl flicked her hair back and her large, dangly earrings jingled. "I hate science but I have to take one." Prof. Suarez started to argue with her that her answer was expressly not allowed, but decided to not fight that battle and start talking about the history of astronomy instead. She began with the Big Bang, 15 billion years ago, and continued until she reached the launch of the Hubble Space Telescope in 1990. At the end, crazy girl stood up and announced that she was dropping the class because she couldn't believe in God and the Big Bang at the same time, and she believed in God. She walked, or rather sauntered, out of the room - flipping her hair on the way out.

I just don't understand it. Who says that God and the Big Bang can't exist at the same time? Who says the two terms are mutually exclusive?

I don't believe or disbelieve the Big Bang Theory. But this is what I know: The Universe is held together by natural laws that just are, that just exist. Gravity is an example of one of them. The Bible tells us that God works by natural laws; so why couldn't He have been the author of the Big Bang, using the 'ways of the universe' to create His magnificent works? God and science don't have to be on opposite sides.

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.