Nola Miller's Story

I have been quite the delinquent blogger...my last post was in June on Father's day! I think it's because so many things have happened that I get overwhelmed thinking about blogging about them all. Since I last blogged, my mom, sister, and Laynie came to visit; Sherrie and Dave came to visit; we backpacked in Banff and Jasper national parks; we moved homebase and Mads back to SLC, andddd I went to Europe for three weeks! It's crazy to think about doing all of that in the span of three months. I mean, who do you know that would be dumb enough to undertake all of that?! When I look back on it, though, I seem to forget about all the hard work we did to get there, and I only remember the good parts: like when we drove up to the house in SLC and how adorable it was; or when I could sit in a cafe in Paris and feel like all the weight from last year was finally gone. It's been a long, hard year for both me and Tommy, but I can honestly say that it was all worth it.

You're probably wondering how I know that, and to be honest, I hadn't thought much about I knew that it was worth it; I only knew that I felt that way. I knew I was lucky and blessed to have Tommy stand beside me (even if that only happened most of the time in the metaphorical sense) and to have stood my ground and gotten it done. But today, on a flight from Salt Lake City to Seattle, a little old woman showed me how.

A little back story: now that my year of course work is done, I am reading for my field exams. I have two fields--one is 19th century British literature (I will write for that exam the second week of December), and the other is my field, the 18th century (I'll write that exam sometime late Spring). You need to know that because I was reading a brick of a 19th century novel on the plane, North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. I sat down next to this woman on the plane, nodded hello, and took out my book. I didn't put it down until about twenty minutes before we were to land, and as I did she said, "what are you reading?" I told her, and also told her that I was reading a lot of 19th century novels about women in domestic situations. She asked why, and I told her what I'm doing in school and why I'm between SLC and Vancouver. I expected her to say something about the challenge of doing all of that (I even imagined her tone to be incredulous and slightly condescending...as in, why in the world would you want to do that?). But she just smiled, and then she said something that really surprised me: "I'm really proud of you." Her words caught me off guard, and she elaborated by saying that it really impressed her when young women went after their dreams. As I sat there feeling really happy with her words and her wisdom (she had several other things to tell me, all very candidly, about life and marriage), she went on to tell me her story:

She had six children--one right after the other, and after the birth of her sixth child, her husband left her. He went away for a while, and when he came back, he said he would take three of the kids. In the mean time, she had moved into a one bedroom apartment with the children, and she took two jobs to feed them. In her constant worry about where food and clothes would come from, her neighbor's French husband was deported to France for his supposed Communist sympathies, and her neighbor came to her for food and money. Mrs. Nola (she told me her name and gave me her address after I helped her carry her luggage out to meet her daughter) gave half the food in her pantry and one of her two dollars to this woman. As Mrs. Nola told me this, her eyes got all watery, and pretty soon I was crying as I listened to her. She told me story after story about how she made it without child support; even after he took three of her children away from her, she still had a hard time. She struggled with losing them and explaining everything to the children with her. She worked hard and told her kids that they could be anything they wanted to be. She has a daughter with a PhD in animal science and said that all her children were successful. Www.undefiningmotherhood.com

An airline employee pushed her to the baggage claim carosel, but she quickly found me there, and I helped her get her luggage. When she got out of the wheelchair and stood up, I saw that she couldn't have been more than 4"8' or so. She was so tiny, and she was wearing a red velvet track suit to match her red nails! As I hauled her incredibly heavy luggage out to the appointed pick up place, she asked where in SLC we lived and if she could come see my dog (of course I had told her all about T and Mads). I asked for her address, and we agreed to become pen pals. As I turned to walk away, she said, 'oh, come here!' I did, and she wrapped me in her tiny arms and kissed my cheek. She told me she was proud of me again, and I ran to the bathroom to avoid doing the ugly cry in front of everyone in baggage claim.

I am so thankful for Mrs. Nola Miller who taught me that strangers can tell you their life stories. That strangers can help you understand your own purpose in life. And, most importantly, that a stranger can help you realize--when you've forgotten--that each of us have the potential to touch someone else's life in a very powerful way.

~

I'm waiting in the airport now to catch a shuttle bus back to Vancouver. I'm sad about leaving Tommy and Mads again, but I'll be back in two weeks. For now, he's settled in a cute little house in Salt Lake City, and I'm living in a basement apartment in Vancouver. I'm staying with a professor (Dr. Smith) and his wife, and if I have to be away from Tommy, it's a really good situation to be in. I think the theme of this blog always returns to how lucky I feel, but I don't think that's such a bad thing. If lucky means having a loving husband, two amazing families, and the ability to make friends with people like Mrs. Miller, then I'm not unhappy with that at all.

xo,
S

Update: if you want to see more about how I’ve followed in Mrs. Nola’s footsteps, check out my work as an editor on www.undefiningmotherhood.com

hiking, bears, and dads

yours truly on the "grouse grind"

at the half-way point

beatiful buntzen lake

mads at buntzen

To continue my last blog's theme of being out and about, here are some pictures of recent adventures at Buntzen Lake and Grouse Mountain. And here are the stories behind them...

On Friday, I decided that I'd had enough of the dreary rain and cold of Burnaby Mountain, so I loaded Mads and a peanut butter and banana sandwich up and headed out for one of my favorite places...Buntzen Lake. The first time I came to visit Vancouver, one of the professors here (who was, fortuitously, also my professor at Montevallo) took me to Buntzen Lake. At the time, I was so impressed by how green and lush everything was (I hadn't yet connected the over-abundance of rain with the profusion of green), and I immediately feel in love with the Vancouver outdoors (it has, interestingly enough, taken me much longer to love the dirty, grey city of Van). Anyway, all of that to say that Buntzen has a special place in my heart. I've taken my friends Rosie, Ali, and Meg all there when they came to visit, and I hope we can take my mom, sister, Laynie, and T's parents there--it's too beautiful not to share. As we descended the mountain, the sun started to shine, and me and Mads were feeling pretty good about the day. I decided to do the seven mile loop around the lake, and as we hiked, I noticed that there were quite a few bear signs. I ignored them and let Mads of the leash...she loves to be free and run around. Around mile five, we had stopped passing other people, and the woods were really quiet. Mads was pretty far ahead of me, and as I turned a corner, I saw something black on the trail. I initially thought it was a dog, but upon closer scrutiny, I saw that it was a small black bear. My first thought was, yeahhh, where there's a small bear, there's usually a bigger mama bear. The bear saw me and immediately started running away (black bears are usually way more scared of you than you are of them, although I was pretty scared). At that point, I wondered where Mads was, and my wondering was answered by a tear of white fur blurring across the trail and into the woods. Mads was chasing the freaking bear. Awesome. Well, I guess she's dead, I thought rather morosely and was about to start crying when she came back up to the trail panting and wagging her tail. Geez. So we struck out to hike the last two miles (rather quickly, I might add), and all was well.

Yesterday, as if I hadn't had enough wilderness for the weekend, we decided to take Dr. Smith up on his offer to show us around Grouse Mountain by taking us up an infamous trail called the Grouse Grind. We had heard a lot of people talk about how hard the Grouse Grind is, but we thought that being the seasoned outdoorspeople we are, we'd have little trouble. Ha. The Grouse Grind is a two mile trail that has no switch-backs and goes STRAIGHT UP grouse mountain. It's literally two miles of stair climbing and often scrambling to get up the mountain. I'm so short that I often couldn't reach the steps, so by the end, I was literally climbing with my hands to finish. This was the first weekend the really popular trail was open, so there were a LOT of other hikers. We were rewarded at the top with a snack and a visit to the grizzly bear habitat (they have two orphaned grizzlies on grouse mountain), and I think I've seen enough bears for a while. We rode the gondola down (if you climb up, it's only a five dollar ride down. If you ride up and down, it'll cost you $40, so technically we made money...har har). Anyway, afterwards we went down and had lunch with Dr. Smith's wife, Gail, who was smart enough to stay home while we endured the grind. All in all, another successful foray into Vancouver's popular tourist destinations, and a nice blend of tourism and Vancouver's natural beauty.

For all that business, I've had a lot of stillness and quietness as I've hiked around (it was just me, Mads, and the bear at Buntzen, and Tommy and Jon quickly out-paced me on the Grouse Grind), and I've been thinking a lot about home. One night last week we decided to strike out and take our chances on a new restaurant, and we decided on a Burgers and BBQ place on Hastings street (famous for its hole-in-the-wall ethnic restaurants...the kind where you really enjoy whatever it is you're eating and then pray it won't be followed by gastronomic explosions). We were pleased to find the "Southern-style" restaurant, and promptly sat down at a table for two by the window. We quickly noticed that two chinese people were behind the "grill," and the decor was fascinating--statuettes of african americans, blues music playing, southern licence plates on the wall (including an old Alabama one), and various other tokens of what the Chinese owners assumed to be Southern. We couldn't complain about the food, though; T ate a bacon cheeseburger, and I had wings (we were a little reluctant to try the actual "BBQ" offerings), and both were delicious. It was just enough to remind us of home.

Today, on father's day, I can't help but think that our families are probably bar-be-quing together and celebrating the dads who raised us, loved us, and cooked for us. We are pretty lucky kids to have a Sherman, a Dave, and two PawPaws who would literally give us the shirts off their backs to see us happy. Happy Father's day to all of you. We love and appreciate all the things you've done for us and all the sacrifices you've made for us. We miss your cooking, too.

We miss all of you!

--S and T

birthdays, alabama, and dried geckos (?)

So much to post! I've been to Seattle, Alabama, and back...only to go to see a Canadian aboriginal art exhibit, Chinatown in Vancouver, and then eat a Turkish donair followed by cookies from an Italian grocery/deli. Sheesh...guess I should start from the beginning.

After last semester was over, I went to Seattle with some of the girls from my cohort. We got a ridiculously expensive hotel room for a ridiculously low price and spent our time shopping, eating, and sitting in the hot tub. Hellooooooo bliss. It's strange to think that I just spent last year with all of them but it took an outing three hours away from school to really just hang out. It made me realize how monastic last year was for me.

Luckily for me, the monasticism and sterility of my life are pretty much over. T came into town right before I left for Seattle/Alabama, and he's here until we move back to SLC in August. Before I get into that, a few things about Alabama: I got to be there for ten days! I saw pretty much everyone I needed to see, and most importantly, I got to be there for one out of two of Laynie's first birthday parties (she's just like her mama--gonna celebrate until the month is over). She is so big now--so precious and loved. As she sat demolishing her very own birthday cupcake, it was hard to believe that she came into our lives just last year. What joy and love she has brought with her.

I also got to go up to Birmingham/Montevallo to see my friend Rosie graduate and to visit with the Hunke's. Dave's back has been giving him a lot of trouble, but otherwise they are doing well. I really enjoyed getting to see everyone. We spent a good amount of time with T on the webcam so he could see them. Things like that make me realize how dispersed and removed we are from our families, but it's always good to see them--whether virtually or in person. We want to be in people's lives...however far away we are.

Since I've been back, we've spent a lot of time seeing Vancouver. It feels good to not be as weighed down as I was this past year (I'm only taking one class and teaching four), so we've been taking advantage of the place and my extra time (I've been having trouble figuring out what to DO with myself) and seeing the sights around town. Last weekend we took the ferry to Victoria on Vancouver island. Yesterday we went to an art gallery, china town, and a classical chinese garden. Then we ate Turkish food and then went to an Italian market...soooo basically Vancouver is a pretty multi-cultural place. It's strange to think that so many people are crammed into such a beautiful place--makes for a lot of good food, though.

We're going to forge ahead with seeing lots of Vancouver this summer until we move homebase back to SLC. We have plans to backpack in Banff (I really want to see Lake Louise http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/00/18/87/cf/lake-louise.jpg) and take various other camping trips. Oh, and eat lots of good food--it's a really good thing T has taught me to be an adventurous eater...although, I wouldn't dare touch some of the things we saw in Chinatown...like dried geckos (notevenkidding!).

Right now T is watching a movie and Madison is twitching her feet as she dreams on the floor beside me. I feel lucky and blessed.

Love to you all,
s

The robot and other assorted things...

It seems like everyone has a different opinion of how to handle the end of the semester. All the undergrads are partying like it's 1999, and the library is full of frazzled, older looking (I'm assuming graduate) students who look like they haven't slept since 1999. Clearly, I am part of the latter group, but because of the former group, I cannot think straight. In fact, there's a giant robot dance-off party happening right now OUTSIDE the library. Hundreds of people (namely, the undergrads) are wearing metallic costumes made of tin foil and glitter and are trying to beat the Guiness world record of people doing the Robot at the same time. Techno music is blaring. The kids are gyrating and robot-ing out of their costumes. Did I mention that this is all happening RIGHT OUTSIDE THE LIBRARY?!

These are the kind of days that make me feel really old. At first I thought it was kind of neat/slightly rejuvenating to be back on campus with a bunch of nineteen and twenty year-olds. Now I want to strangle everyone I see who's doing the robot. This leads me to my next thought, which is about getting the heck outta dodge as soon as this semester is over. I'm going home to Birmingham/Montgomery for a week. Laynie's birthday is on May 7th, so I'm happy to get back for that (I can't believe that kid will be one!). It will be nice to be out of Canada/the Pacific North West for a while. I feel like I've had all the rainy cold drizzle I can stand...my frizzy hair needs a serious break...as does my over-worked brain.

Aside from the fact that the power has just gone out in the library (perhaps the speakers from which the robot techno dance music was blaring blew a fuse?), there is quite a bit of good news to report. Tommy is making his way here in May. He will be working remote from Vancouver (this means living with me this summer!), and then our plans include moving to Blaine, Washington (this is a short jaunt from Canada--about 45 minutes to school for me) when our lease runs out in August. This means he will still be able to work for Back Country (as a contractor), but for tax reasons, we need to be in the states to make this happen. We also need to be in the states so Madison can have a yard (places with yards here will cost you your firstborn plus at least an arm or a leg). I can't believe this is finally happening; It's going to be so great to have him here...finally!

Also, my friends Ali and Meg came to visit over Easter Break. We had a great time, and the best part was introducing them to my friends here---aka Canadian Ali and Meg. I know, I know, having two sets of friends with exactly the same names is a bit much, but I've been blessed enough to accrue two sets of Alis and Megs. I'm including a picture of all of us at the top of this blog (it's a little blurry, but I feel like I need to document the almost rift in the time continuum as a result of their meeting). I took Utah Ali and Meg shopping, eating, and hiking. It was a grand old time!

Ok, the power is back on, and I guess all the robot dancers are done dancing, because I don't hear them anymore. Perhaps I should go back to the always fascinating land of the annotated bibliography. ONLY TWO MORE WEEKS OF THIS SEMESTER, AND THEN I'M FREEE!

Love to you all,
S

**edit** Tommy found a picture online of the Robot Dance-off. The Library is to the right of the students. http://www.flickr.com/photos/sfupamr/4503434595/sizes/l/

cherry blossoms and T in Vancouver...

So the cherry blossoms are blooming here, and things are feeling rather spring-like, I must say. I crave the beginning of spring since living in Salt Lake (that first winter was sooo long--it lasted until May!), so now whenever I see those first blooms, and the weather becomes just a tad warmer, and the days are just a little bit longer, my heart feels glad, and I know it's almost SANDAL weather! Strange thing to look forward to, I know...but man I love wearing sandals and skirts and tanktops. In fact, my summer wardrobe is my favorite. All those bright colors...all those flowy skirts! Anyway, I digress--the real reason for a blog is that I have pictures to share, and a story to tell (although, it's really just a version of the same old story)....

I guess it begins with this semester. I have two classes that aren't really in my field, and they pose problems for me because I am so ready to be working on my own project; you know, that thing they admitted me into PhD school to do... I feel like I have a mixture of Spring Fever/Senioritis--that strange blend of apathy with a pinch of I'd rather be having a brownie. Lucky for me, a little thing called the Olympics came into town.

This two week vacation (oh, my!) turned out to be what I dubbed a "brain break." It was really just an excuse for me to do nothing and hang out with Tommy and our friends in Salt Lake City. I had such a good time with everyone, but when I got back, the proverbial poop definitely hit the fan. Sigh. The good news is that Tommy surprised me by coming back with me. He will leave here on Thursday, but I've had him to myself for the past three weeks now. Today, after three days of cramming in all the work I was supposed to do on my Olympic break, we headed to Vancouver for some sight-seeing. Like a true tourist, Tommy carried his camera around his neck and took some neat pictures before his battery died. We visited the Vancouver Art Gallery (we especially enjoyed the Da Vinci exhibit and the British Columbia exhibit), Little India (where we had a rather interesting lunch buffet), and then we went to Granville island via the new streetcar named the Olympic Line. We actually spent most of the day on public transit (I swear we rode the SkyTrain at least 12 times, and I used almost all my hand sanitizer trying not to catch the raging swiner), but it was so nice just to be out and about (or, oot and aboot, if you prefer to speak Canadianese).

My favorite pictures are from the SkyTrain station (I think it was Burrard Station) where the Cherry Blossoms were blooming. As we walked up into the daylight from the SkyTrain platform, all you could see were the blossoms. I knew that outside of them lay the concrete jungle of Vancouver and all the little failures of this week, but for some reason, all I could focus on was the smell and the sheer canopy of them. As I watched Tommy get out his camera, I remembered how important it is to focus on something other than my work and my troubles...sometimes you just need someone to help you see the sights and the ability to actually open your eyes and see them...

To Cherry Blossoms!
xo,
s

update!

Top to Bottom: Hunkes in TN, New Clark Family Babies and Cousins, Nim and Laynie, Creel Cousins. Below: Sarah in Seattle

I hate that it's been about a million forevers (ok, two months, whatever) since I've posted, especially since so many things (things requiring photo documentation!) have occurred. These things are inclusive of, but of course not limited to:

• The torture of all tortures--finals week (I survived!)
• The great trek to Alabama by way of first driving to Salt Lake City
• Christmas in Alabama--Laynie rode around in a wagon!
  
• Christmas in Tennessee--four new babies!
  
• Flying out of Nashville after the terrorist scare on Christmas day AND THEN driving back to Vancouver from SLC...

Shew, I'm tired after just bulleting those things out. It was all worth it, though. We got to spend a lot of time with our families, and what's more important than that? Nothing. I felt especially grateful this year to spend time with all my cousins (see above picture), especially my cousin Dale. It seems that no matter how much things change, I always see him as the skinny little pest of my childhood (in a good way). Being at Nanny and PawPaw's house with everyone reminded me of those days, and it was fun to also have husbands and boyfriends and soon to be financees all around us. The big yellow house in the country was so full--full of games, and food (what would Christmas be without the little burgers?!), and kids running around everywhere. It was insane...it was wonderful.

From there we went to Birmingham to celebrate with the Hunkes. We even got to see Tommy's aunt and uncle, Juanita and Jim, for a bit, and that was really nice. Then Dave, Sherrie, Kenny, Tommy, and myself headed to Tennessee for the annual Clark Christmas extravaganza. With four new babies in the family this year, it was quite the event! Projectile spit up, bottles, and tired parents abounded, but there were enough babies to hold and kiss on, and the food was amazing (as per the Clark usual), so all was well.

From there Tommy and I travelled back to Salt Lake City. It felt weird to be leaving him after a solid month of being together. He flew into Vancouver during what I refer to as the seventh circle of hell, better known as finals week, and was such a welcome sight. He cooked; he walked the dog; he cleaned; he did the laundry. He was so wonderful to me. Then he didn't take his flight back to SLC--he waited in order to drive with me and Mads through the winter weather to SLC. And then...he let me drive his car back to Vancouver, and he took my Corrolla (which looks like it has a giant fur coat covering in the backseat--not to mention that it's been broken into, backed into things, etc etc). Basically, he wins the good husband award of the year. Our plans as of right now are to see one another during the Olympic break (I'm getting the heck out of dodge), and then for him to move here at some point over the summer. We'd like for him to have something full-time here, but we think we can work if he can get contract work. It's worth whatever it takes.

And so I'm back in Vancouver. I'm glad to be back, and I know this is because I have an amazing set of family and friends who love me. It's easy to lose sight of who I am and where I come from when I'm here in a city full of people who don't know me and don't care to. It's easy to become one in millions, to hide behind reading and a degree and being alone. But I remembered what I had come close to forgetting--that I am here because everything lined up for me to be here. Because you all have been a part of my life and encouraged me and loved me.

And so I go back to the usual with a grateful heart.
xo,
s