This is Halloween

There is a black cat that has become taken with our back porch lately. Her yellow moon eyes beg for food, and she's in the right place to play that trick. Our own little cat watches from inside, completely fixated with the view out of her window. She's deeply offended to see an intruder sharing her food. Occasionally she hisses, but mostly she just moans. A completely disappointed whine.

We woke up to rain beating the windows. Mornings are holding onto darkness longer these days, and you feel it when you work through routine. I made my way downstairs, where the increasingly familiar sound of whining from my cat met my ears. It was obvious why - the black cat was eating her food once again, but this time inside her house. Inside my house. "Michael, you let that other stray cat in? I thought we agreed! One was our max!" Despite my slight relief that this little animal was warm through a storm last night, I couldn't hide the fact that I was annoyed.

"What are you talking about? I never let it in," Michael said, as he came in the kitchen.

"You didn't? But ... it was already down here, when I came downstairs. I think it has been here all night," I told him, staring at those big yellow eyes that stared back. Without the glass barrier, they seemed to lose some innocence.

She must have slipped in when I closed the door last night, I decided. We sent her back outside after breakfast and then left. Work and school wait for no one, not even Halloween.

That afternoon we rounded the last corner to our apartment, and the black cat bolted across the street in front of us at the last possible moment. With just a slight swerve, and the smallest of shudders, I was in our parking spot and making my way up our walk. I went straight upstairs, always ready to turn my business casual to casual as quickly as possible. There, at the top of my stairs, were yellow waiting eyes. The black cat watched me pause. We both stared, for just a moment. This time I knew I felt no sympathy for it, and its eyes seemed to understand the same. How did it get in?

I shooed it outside, nudging its final inches out the door with my foot. My own little cat was instantly there, circling between my ankles as a thank you. That night, I was too aware of the windows. I kept my glances elsewhere, avoiding eye contact with any potential eyes on the other side. I thought I caught glimpses of bright, reflective yellow here and there, but I refused to meet the gaze. And I refused to touch the doors, until Halloween had passed.

And with that, here are some possibilities you can take or leave:

|| Maybe only the first paragraph is true. ||

or 

|| Maybe this is the real reason why Manchester Village has a "don't feed the cats" rule. ||

And here's a little list for you if you're in the mood for some spooky short-story reading, which happens to be my Halloween celebration of choice. No scary movies. No haunted houses. Don't even try reading these out loud to me. I just like a good short story reading session with hot chocolate, and Reeses pumpkins are always invited.

|| The Signal-Man by Charles Dickens ||

|| The Monkey's Paw by W. W. Jacobs ||

|| The Statement of Randolph Carter by H.P. Lovecraft ||

|| Oh, Whistle, And I'll Come To You, My Lad by M.R. James ||

What spooky short stories do you love?

October's Ruthless Fly By

Months slip by quicker than days sometimes. They seem so substantial, four-ish whole weeks. And even when they're filled with a few of those days that kind of crawl, months still find this way of slipping by and suddenly being gone. MIA until next year, when they'll pull the same trick. Normally I just shake my head and move into the next set of 30 days, full of its own holidays and plans. But when it's October? That always makes it just a little harder. We spend so much time rejoicing in leaves and pumpkins and cider that by the time you're really settling in, November is already there waiting. 

And nothing against November, but two Octobers in a row isn't something I'd complain about. It's the month that gets busy people to pile in cars just to drive and look at leaves. People who sometimes rush through those 11 other months with hardly a thought. That's something, October. It's also the month that turns air and apples into something crisp, and people look around just a little more. I still don't know where Michael and I are going to "settle down" some day and live a permanent life, but if October was an option, it'd be high on my list. I would totally live in October.

In other news, we found treasure yesterday. No maps were involved, but it was technically hidden and it felt kind of thrilling. We had two red pomegranates sitting idly by in our kitchen, and we decided to get involved with them. We had to utilize a YouTube video to be successful, and the process didn't disappoint. Isn't it amazing how many jewels are packed away in one solid pomegranate? All of them so protected for so long? We just kept finding more and more. All of them deep red and threatening to stain clothes and fingers.

Michael and I used to pick pomegranates in Jerusalem. They weren't even ripe in the summer there, but we still picked them because it felt so perfect. We'd sit with friends on the hill outside the Jerusalem Center looking at this view and talk and laugh, or just look at the city. Those were good moments. I don't remember if I was already falling in love, or if I ever wondered if I'd some day eat a pomegranate with Michael in our own kitchen. But we did fall in love. And we did eat a pomegranate in our own kitchen. And that was a good moment, too. That summer flew by. October flew by. Someday I will say the same about life. 

So, here's to filling it with more good moments.

Pure Michigan: Part 2

The next chapter of our Michigan trip felt like a step back in time. We reached Mackinaw City to take a ferry ride across Lake Huron to Mackinac Island. Don't ask me to explain that spelling discrepancy to you, but both are pronounced [Mack-in-awe]. And awe is right. Look at this place:

There are only bikes and horses on the island, no cars. The main street right at the docks is adorable and touristy, but there is a lot more to the island. Native Americans lived on the island until the 17th century. Britain established Fort Mackinac there during the Revolutionary War, and two battles were fought on the island during the War of 1812. It's not quite four square miles, and we rode the eight mile path around the perimeter twice. We couldn't get enough of it!

The island is hilly and full of forest and just beautiful. At one point Michael led us onto what we later found out was a ski path. That was fun on bikes... and we went up to a lookout point by that arch there. Seeing a mountainous arch just made my Utah-born heart fill with joy. Riding my bike on a ski path to it, not so much. Our first day there was full of fog and clouded skies, but the next day was completely clear and sunny. Both are good.

There were just so many exploration options in the middle of the island. Like this staircase that looked so appealing going down but then magically turned three times as big when it was time to go back up. We also rode through the area of the island where all the residents live. It was interesting to read about what life is like as a permanent resident on the island (most of the homes are summer homes, but almost 500 people live there year-round).

We stopped by the Governor's House, but the Governor was not there. June and July is the right time to go to Mackinac Island, apparently. But I'm all for the fall. There was a sign to not pet the dog, so we hung around a little bit hoping to catch a glimpse of said dog (and probably pet him), but apparently he is with the Governor. Not on the island.

The cemetery was best explored on the foggy day. It felt like we were the only two people on the island. I always love finding the oldest date in a graveyard that I can. But there is always so much sad math to be found.

The Grand Hotel looms over the island in all its majesty. It boasts the largest porch in the world, and you can't even go inside after a certain hour if you're not completely dressed in formal wear. To be honest, you're not even allowed to ride bikes on the road in front of the hotel. But if you don't see that sign until after you do that, consider it beating the system. We did. The hotel has been visited by Mark Twain, Thomas Edison, multiple presidents, and Michael and Maddie Daetwyler. (The road in front of it, at least.)

We found our own personal beach spot that was complete with an endless supply of perfect skipping rocks. We're talking round, smooth, medium-sized beauties. Michael holds the record at nine skips and for some reason I have a glass ceiling of four. A short-distanced four. But it didn't take away from the experience.

Oh those Michigan sunsets.

We stayed in a hotel that I'm convinced was haunted. Not because of any actual experiences. Just because it was old and full of ominous photographs from ages ago. Had to be haunted. Michael fell asleep within seconds, as always, and I proceeded to watch two (2) movies all by myself, because I was possibly just avoiding the moment that the lights had to be turned out... I am so extremely good at creeping myself out.

But, even with my haunting suspicions, I was so sad to leave the island the next morning. We set off on our ferry back to the mainland, and I just stared back at this place with so much love for it. I want everyone to go. You, reading this. You should go. Don't think I took the time to link these two Michigan posts all up for nothing. This is your travel guide for your future visit, and we will gladly come with you.

I mean, the island is famous for fudge, and we completely forgot to buy any or even try a sample. So, looks like we'll just have to go back soon.

Pure Michigan: Part 1

Michael had a Fall Break from dental school last week. He probably could have slept through the entire thing, but we decided to hit the road instead. We have been needing a good dose of fall colors around here, so we packed up our bikes and headed north.

North, north, north. See that loop we made? The drive was beautiful. We loved driving next to water and seeing the gorgeous views and colors. Josh Ritter sang us the whole way there. And back, for that matter. Road trip music at its finest.

Our first stop: Grand Haven, MI. We stopped for (an extremely delicious) lunch and decided to ride the bike paths out to the boardwalk and lighthouse. We met so many friendly people on that trail. I feel like they all had golden doodles, taunting us. Oh how we will love a puppy some day. We'll be making another trip to Grand Haven next summer to catch their famous musical fountain and to experience the boardwalk at peak season. Maybe we'll even try our hand at the annual sand sculpture contest. You just wait and see.

It was a clear, beautiful day, but all the posted warning and safety signs definitely give an ominous feel to the water. You can just tell that Lake Michigan knows how to storm. The water was freeeezing but we couldn't resist walking through it. Grand Haven is, after all, one of the best beaches in the country according to Good Morning America, so...had to embrace the cold. Not as much, though, as the man who was going for a full on deep water swim. He talked to us afterwards, acting like it was nothing. Maybe your body just provides some extreme acclimation if you're always surrounded by a beautiful tempting beach and cold water.

Back to the road. 

Road + Dr. Pepper = Happy.

Our next stop was Leland, MI. We went up here and stayed at a hotel Michael's parents told us about, called Falling Waters Lodge. It was awesome - water ran right by our hotel room, with salmon trying their hardest to swim upstream. We could have been entertained by that for quite a while. 

I also kind of loved the loud water noise while we fell asleep that night. (Side note: Michael falls asleep in about 6 seconds, average. I'm pushing one hour most nights. I told you I was getting older. You just rolled your eyes.) 

We watched the sunset over Lake Michigan, and it was gorgeous. 

The "Pure Michigan" slogan is probably the best branding I've seen from any state. All the people we met and cities we drove through just seemed to keep that message impressively consistent. Michael is ready to move there, actually. I insist we take a winter trip there before he becomes too enamored with that idea...

Sunset, take two.

The next morning we grabbed breakfast at a local bakery and hopped on our bikes to explore the town a little more. Leaves were everywhere and I was just completely happy. It felt just like fall should feel. 

I feel like I wore my love for September on my sleeve just to have that month hold out on me. It was full of 80-degree days that I refused to recognize, and instead continued to make soups for dinner while wearing fall sweaters and ignoring the overheating that most definitely happened. Fine, September. Let October show you up. But next year you better put in a little more effort.

Then, it was back on the road for our final stretch up to Mackinaw City, to catch our ferry to THIS magical land.

But that is a post for tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Doubt Your Doubts

We spent a rainy weekend watching this. That happens twice a year for us, and it is far and away the most relaxing two weekends of my year - more so because of the words I hear and love I feel rather than the sweat pants I spend my entire weekend wearing. But the sweats most definitely play their role.

Sometimes words are spoken that resonate completely and significantly with every listening person. You almost feel it, that collective resonance. On Saturday, I felt like that happened with this simple sentence:

Those are strong words. Maybe because even the strongest of people need to hear them. Sometimes we turn doubts into something to hold onto. Some sort of rock that we think provides strength because it pushes against something we thought we knew to be true, something we had faith in. So you size up this new doubt and realize that if you stand behind it, it can be quite effective. You no longer have to face what you knew. You just stand there, letting that doubt stand there taller than you, and you begin to believe it is solid.

But doubts are not made of anything lasting. Faith is forever. Truth is forever. I believe that questions are important, and they deserve respect. I believe that people with questions are important, and they deserve respect. But building a question into a doubt, and purposefully leaning on that more than faith, will not lead to happiness. Doubting faith before doubting doubts is intentional, and will not ultimately lead to true understanding. 

So, doubt what you don't know before you doubt what you know. These words are so true across the board, right? 

What if they were applied to every person in your life? Doubt what you don't know about them (assumptions about motives, circumstances) before you doubt what you know (they are a child of God, they deserve love, there is something you can do to make them happier). 

What if it was applied to how you think about yourself, and your abilities? Doubt what you don't know (what if taking a chance doesn't work out? What if I can't do it?) before you doubt what you know (I am a child of God. There are things working together for my good. If I do my best while following the Lord, things will work out. I know enough).

That really is the key. We don't know everything, but we know enough. So why is dwelling on what we don't know better than dwelling on what we do?

It's not.

Especially in a world like ours.

There were plenty of other wonderful things about this weekend. But the almost palpable effect this simple sentence had just really struck me. And it seems like now more than ever is the time to focus on simple truths, rather than complex questions and doubts.

So with two inches off my hair, and two days of messages from living prophets, I'm just feeling a lot lighter over here. And that's a cherished feeling.

Coral & Controversy

I think it's time to turn down the controversy around here and look at my toilet. 

Let me clarify. This past week has been a little more emotionally draining than I anticipated after publicly throwing my opinion out into the wonderful world regarding women and the Priesthood in the LDS Church. And it has kind of left me tired and agreeing more than ever with the original post I linked to and this one, too. So, let's just take a break for a second and turn to a new controversy: our bathroom's recent late night makeover.

Coral and modern art. So many questions raised. Is it orange-y coral? Is it pink-y coral? What is that painting of? What did the artist want it to mean? Could Michael easily replicate the painting himself, as he declared when he first saw it? Does that mean it's not art? Should I have told Michael about any of these bathroom plans before they began? Before they ended? Would you be happier to use this bathroom now? Would you be too overwhelmed by color to use this bathroom now? Was starting the painting process at 9pm a mistake?

I don't know the answers to these questions. So many questions this week that I don't have answers to. And sometimes, that's ok. 

So without further ado, our toilet's new space:

It has significantly increased my happiness level when performing some of the more mundane tasks of life, such as cutting my bangs, curling my hair, putting on my make up while I'm half asleep, and...other stuff.

So, that was your tour of my half bathroom, which took all of eight seconds. Maybe I'll finally be finished decorating this little apartment of mine by the time our four years in it are over. 

Maybe.

P.S. Thanks to all of you who shared your opinion with me this week and helped form my own. I've had a lot of conversations, emails, texts (and ok yeah, that slightly obnoxious Facebook thread) and other messages that have been really enlightening and interesting. None of us have all the answers. But I do know one place that, while we may not get all our questions answered at this time, we WILL receive only truth. Straight up, inspired, from-God, truth. It's a much needed weekend.