Sure, we went to the beach a couple days ago. Sure, it was so sunny and warm I was in my short sleeve shirt. Sure, Ash ran around in her shorts.
I still wish I was back in Utah for the upcoming snow storm. I lived there ten years--and Child lived there her entire life--without seeing a snow day. And here BYU is closing.
I'm jealous.
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Ah, the joys of moving
Moving Day - 1: High Stress Situation
Keep in mind that Child's phone has been missing for the past week, so we've had a single phone we've been swapping between us. It makes everything harder when you can't communicate with each other and/or whoever you're trying to make various arrangements with.
3:00 AM: Wake up.
3:00-7:00 AM: Try to fall back asleep, fail.
8:55 AM: Walk out to car to leave for last day of work.
8:56 AM: Discover car has been broken into. Nice little going-away present. Lova ya too, Utah. Of course this was the first time we had parked outside our garage all winter (our garage being full of moving boxes). The criminal wasn't particularly smart; he managed to figure out how to open the doors because they were unlocked, but he couldn't decipher how to unstick the suction cup of the GPS unit in the front window, so he just broke it off.
Also pointing to his newbiness was the fact that he missed $25 in the center console and a multi-thousand dollar paycheck on the front seat. He did manage to make me 45 minutes late for my last day of work, though, and waste time calling an insurance company who apparently doesn't believe in returning messages (yes, that's you, USAA).
Of course, incidents like this is exactly why we have insurance. After a prior break-in or two, I tossed around the idea of installing some sort of homemade camera in my car, hooked to my wireless network. I finally decided I'd spend a lot less time and probably the same amount of money just getting insurance and not letting it bother me.
10:00 AM: Attempt to print rental agreement for new home, so I can sign and fax it back. The office chooses that day to change every printer in the building. Spend twenty minutes going from printer to printer trying to figure out which one is which before finally emailing it to a friend who emails it to a friend who prints it off and gives it to me. Sign the document, fax it back. No good. Apparently Child's signature also has to be on the document. Child is not present. Child calls them, convinces them to let her sign it Monday.
12:30 PM: Going away lunch. Initial plan was Goodwoods (a BBQ joint), but to include a new vegan hire we go to PeiWeis instead. PeiWeis is packed, go to Mexican food next door. Get a Tres Leche cake for Child. She likes it. On the way back to the office with five of us packed in a car, we realize that a single accident has the ability to wipe out the entire company. The driver slows down.
4:30 PM: Leave work for the last time. With two brand new programmers taking my place and a single harried original programmer, I get the feeling I'm fleeing a sinking ship. Of course, the truth is that in today's digital age, it's impossible to flee a technology-based company unless you block all your old coworkers in IM, refuse to answer their emails, calls, or text messages, and avoid them on any social networking sites.
Archiving the perpetually-replenished To-Do email for the last time is a nice feeling.
5:00 PM: Pick up moving truck. Load friend's piano in moving truck to take from Provo to Draper. Turn down (generous) offer of another piano from Child's mom. Driving a 26 foot truck feels like you're driving from the second story window of a house.
5:30 PM: Drop off piano. Going down a ramp is much easier than going up. Especially when exceptionally skilled backing-up of a 26 foot truck practially drops the ramp in your front door.
6:00 PM: Nearly get killed by a car which someone parked on a hill and didn't put the parking brake on. When you're leaning in the door of a car that's rolling backwards downhill, it's surprisingly hard to either back out OR find the parking brake. Fortunately, the people who had parked behind us had left about five minutes earlier, or they'd have a crushed front-end on their car and we'd have a crushed rear-end on our car.
7:00 PM: Snow starts to fall. Big, thick, fat flakes. Looks like we'll be packing and driving in six inches of snow in the morning.
10:00 PM: Go to bed.
Keep in mind that Child's phone has been missing for the past week, so we've had a single phone we've been swapping between us. It makes everything harder when you can't communicate with each other and/or whoever you're trying to make various arrangements with.
3:00 AM: Wake up.
3:00-7:00 AM: Try to fall back asleep, fail.
8:55 AM: Walk out to car to leave for last day of work.
8:56 AM: Discover car has been broken into. Nice little going-away present. Lova ya too, Utah. Of course this was the first time we had parked outside our garage all winter (our garage being full of moving boxes). The criminal wasn't particularly smart; he managed to figure out how to open the doors because they were unlocked, but he couldn't decipher how to unstick the suction cup of the GPS unit in the front window, so he just broke it off.
Also pointing to his newbiness was the fact that he missed $25 in the center console and a multi-thousand dollar paycheck on the front seat. He did manage to make me 45 minutes late for my last day of work, though, and waste time calling an insurance company who apparently doesn't believe in returning messages (yes, that's you, USAA).
Of course, incidents like this is exactly why we have insurance. After a prior break-in or two, I tossed around the idea of installing some sort of homemade camera in my car, hooked to my wireless network. I finally decided I'd spend a lot less time and probably the same amount of money just getting insurance and not letting it bother me.
10:00 AM: Attempt to print rental agreement for new home, so I can sign and fax it back. The office chooses that day to change every printer in the building. Spend twenty minutes going from printer to printer trying to figure out which one is which before finally emailing it to a friend who emails it to a friend who prints it off and gives it to me. Sign the document, fax it back. No good. Apparently Child's signature also has to be on the document. Child is not present. Child calls them, convinces them to let her sign it Monday.
12:30 PM: Going away lunch. Initial plan was Goodwoods (a BBQ joint), but to include a new vegan hire we go to PeiWeis instead. PeiWeis is packed, go to Mexican food next door. Get a Tres Leche cake for Child. She likes it. On the way back to the office with five of us packed in a car, we realize that a single accident has the ability to wipe out the entire company. The driver slows down.
4:30 PM: Leave work for the last time. With two brand new programmers taking my place and a single harried original programmer, I get the feeling I'm fleeing a sinking ship. Of course, the truth is that in today's digital age, it's impossible to flee a technology-based company unless you block all your old coworkers in IM, refuse to answer their emails, calls, or text messages, and avoid them on any social networking sites.
Archiving the perpetually-replenished To-Do email for the last time is a nice feeling.
5:00 PM: Pick up moving truck. Load friend's piano in moving truck to take from Provo to Draper. Turn down (generous) offer of another piano from Child's mom. Driving a 26 foot truck feels like you're driving from the second story window of a house.
5:30 PM: Drop off piano. Going down a ramp is much easier than going up. Especially when exceptionally skilled backing-up of a 26 foot truck practially drops the ramp in your front door.
6:00 PM: Nearly get killed by a car which someone parked on a hill and didn't put the parking brake on. When you're leaning in the door of a car that's rolling backwards downhill, it's surprisingly hard to either back out OR find the parking brake. Fortunately, the people who had parked behind us had left about five minutes earlier, or they'd have a crushed front-end on their car and we'd have a crushed rear-end on our car.
7:00 PM: Snow starts to fall. Big, thick, fat flakes. Looks like we'll be packing and driving in six inches of snow in the morning.
10:00 PM: Go to bed.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
September Snow
September refused to go without a final hurrah. This pictures is a little late, from the last day of September, but I wanted to post it anyway.
We had our first taste of snow on the mountains. You can tell from the picture that it didn't make it down to the valley, but it was enough to let us know winter is coming. I always enjoy the changing of the seasons.
Of course, right now our relatives in Wyoming and Idaho have REAL snow. I don't think I envy them yet, not in the beginning of October.
We had our first taste of snow on the mountains. You can tell from the picture that it didn't make it down to the valley, but it was enough to let us know winter is coming. I always enjoy the changing of the seasons.
Of course, right now our relatives in Wyoming and Idaho have REAL snow. I don't think I envy them yet, not in the beginning of October.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Snow Shovel From God
Sunday morning, God put a snow shovel on our porch. It was well timed, since the weather had dumped 8 or so inches of snow the night before and both our landlord and his wife were sick in bed. After shoveling the walks/driveway of our fourplex, I shoveled their walk/driveway as well, since they live right next door.
I have to say, either God's on a tight budget, or he assigned some intern angel to create the shovel, because it was old, orange, and the corners were bent. I guess it got the job done, though.
I have to say, either God's on a tight budget, or he assigned some intern angel to create the shovel, because it was old, orange, and the corners were bent. I guess it got the job done, though.
Monday, October 08, 2007
High Spur Canyon
On September 29, Child and I, along with a couple other friends, went through High Spur Canyon. For a last-minute decision ("Spur" of the moment? Ha ha!) it was an amazingly fun canyon. It was in the Robber's Roost area, which I've always found to be rather drab, but this canyon was surprisingly pretty.
Below is a picture of us in the "Corkscrew" section of the canyon; a red staircase of rock that spiraled downwards in giant wavy steps.
Unlike some slot canyons, High Spur would open up at frequent occasions, before quickly closing into slot again.
To my surprise, we also encountered water. More exactly, we encountered mud, covered with a thin layer of water. See the further pictures for an illustration.
This mud was interesting. It was incredibly slick: one of my friends stood on the shore of a wide, knee-deep pool, and the mud was so slick that he simply slid downhill until he ended up in the middle of the pool. The banks of the pool weren't even that steep! It made very tricky going, however, especially since I hadn't brought my "sticky-shoes," not expecting any water.
At least the mud smelled nice. Sometimes, the mud smells like stale water and rotting animal carcasses (and for good reason: the water is stale and has rotting animal carcasses floating in it). This canyon, however, had collected enormous amounts of pine needles (see picture below) which not only solidified the mud slightly, but gave a nice scent to the air and a nice tickle to bare feet wading in it.
At times, however, even the solidifying power of the pine-needles wasn't enough. There was a point where my feet would touch ground under six inches of water, then continue to sink until I was mid-thigh deep in mud. Walk fast and think light thoughts! ...and pixie dust would be handy also.
The trip was a little cool and incredibly windy, although nothing I couldn't stand in a short-sleeve trip for most of the hike. However, on the drive home through the mountains, we ran into the first snowfall I had been in this year. I wish we had had the inclination at the time to stop and get some more pictures, because it was pretty. The windward side of the pine trees turned white with blown snow while the lee sides stayed green, with the whole scene interspersed with small patches of brilliant gold deciduous trees.
At this point, however, my camera was full and I was scrambling to delete pictures of Child's mother's 50th birthday-party cookies to make room, but we were past the prettiest parts by the time I finished. It's hard to get good pictures through a moving car window anyway.
Overall, a wonderful camera and one I'd definitely do again. Watch out for the drive there, though. Once you get down to the area, it's still another two or three hour drive over four-wheel drive roads to get to the actual canyon.
Below is a picture of us in the "Corkscrew" section of the canyon; a red staircase of rock that spiraled downwards in giant wavy steps.
Unlike some slot canyons, High Spur would open up at frequent occasions, before quickly closing into slot again.
To my surprise, we also encountered water. More exactly, we encountered mud, covered with a thin layer of water. See the further pictures for an illustration.
This mud was interesting. It was incredibly slick: one of my friends stood on the shore of a wide, knee-deep pool, and the mud was so slick that he simply slid downhill until he ended up in the middle of the pool. The banks of the pool weren't even that steep! It made very tricky going, however, especially since I hadn't brought my "sticky-shoes," not expecting any water.
At least the mud smelled nice. Sometimes, the mud smells like stale water and rotting animal carcasses (and for good reason: the water is stale and has rotting animal carcasses floating in it). This canyon, however, had collected enormous amounts of pine needles (see picture below) which not only solidified the mud slightly, but gave a nice scent to the air and a nice tickle to bare feet wading in it.
At times, however, even the solidifying power of the pine-needles wasn't enough. There was a point where my feet would touch ground under six inches of water, then continue to sink until I was mid-thigh deep in mud. Walk fast and think light thoughts! ...and pixie dust would be handy also.
The trip was a little cool and incredibly windy, although nothing I couldn't stand in a short-sleeve trip for most of the hike. However, on the drive home through the mountains, we ran into the first snowfall I had been in this year. I wish we had had the inclination at the time to stop and get some more pictures, because it was pretty. The windward side of the pine trees turned white with blown snow while the lee sides stayed green, with the whole scene interspersed with small patches of brilliant gold deciduous trees.
At this point, however, my camera was full and I was scrambling to delete pictures of Child's mother's 50th birthday-party cookies to make room, but we were past the prettiest parts by the time I finished. It's hard to get good pictures through a moving car window anyway.
Overall, a wonderful camera and one I'd definitely do again. Watch out for the drive there, though. Once you get down to the area, it's still another two or three hour drive over four-wheel drive roads to get to the actual canyon.
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