Summer Reading

I like summer vacation. I do. I'm not going to say that I don't, but here's the reality:
it is slightly possible that I'm a little bit bored...
Bored is maybe a little too strong though. It sounds negative. Sometimes bored is good.
So far this week I've:
1. Napped on the couch.
2. Napped on the deck.
3. Alternated between reading a few pages of a book, napped a while, woke up, read a few more pages. Repeat. In my defense that book was really boring. (Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley)
4. Speaking of boring books--I've also been reading a book about Microbes. Interesting for about an hour, then I had to find something else. Not because it wasn't interesting, but 60 minutes seems to be my threshold for reading about E. coli and all its microbial buddies.
5. Yes, you read that right E. coli.
6. But I am not complaining, just reporting.
7. Now I am off to find an adventure. Hopefully one that doesn't involve any real life encounters with E. coli.

Two Truths and a Lie.

I often nap on public transportation. On the way to work one morning I was horrified to wake up with my head resting on the shoulder on some stranger! Wait for it, it gets much worse...I was drooling on his suit!
Status: True!
When I first started riding the bus to work, I was nervous about weirdos. It was at this moment I faced the truth—I am the weirdo on the bus!

I got a shout out from the Bat Commander at the Aquabats concert I went to in Seattle. He told me he liked my vest (unquestionably mocking me) and then blew me a kiss (to make up). I forgave him.
Status: True!
I was running late after school and didn’t have time to go home and change into a more appropriate for a rock concert outfit. So, I wore a fleece vest. Very tacky. I thought I might get cold later… No, I actually have no excuse. But he really did blow me a kiss. This story can be corroborated by my friend Jeremy.

On the 1st day of the sailing class I took at WWU, I had to capsize the boat out on the lake, so the sail was all the way under (90 degrees to the surface) then try to get the boat back up and crawl back in! I got very wet and but had so much fun!
Status: False!
This story was almost true. I signed up for sailing lessons. Hard to do unless you have a copiousness number of credits so you are one of the first to register, as this class fills promptly. I got out to the lake and saw the class before me out on the lake doing the exercise described and fear flooded my heart. After confirming that that was not the advanced sailing class, as I first hoped, I decided not to proceed. Some scary things in life I’ve regretted not doing. I often wish I was braver. But crazy isn’t something I want to be. This was beyond scary and into the crazy category!

Happy Donut Day!

Consider the humble donut. So simple in its construction, yet able to bring a grown woman to her knees. I will not deny it. I love a good donut. Or if you prefer, doughnut. Either way you spell it, it is delicious. Not every one loves them with the same pure abandonment as I do however. So, if you are not a donut lover; first of all, my heart goes out to you in sympathy for missing out on one of life’s simple pleasures, secondly, I am jealous of your slender waistline.

When I was very little, I remember having a special affinity for Dunkin Donuts. I’m sure it was kindled by my love of my dad, who shares a name (Duncan) with this wondrous place. While that may have been the beginning, the experience of standing in front of that window (not simply standing but situating myself with my hands and nosed pressed to the glass, moving when it got too foggy, imagining the possibilities) is the memory that wafts deliciously into my heart when I smell maple icing.

Some memories seem to be peppered with tastes and sounds.
For me, driving to early morning seminary sounds like Ace of Base (The Sign) and tastes like a cinnamon twist from Happy Donuts.

Bellingham Washington has many charms. Lafeen’s Donuts (where instead of first thing in the morning, they put the hot donuts out at 10 p.m.) is one of them. The problem is that at 10:05 most nights someone in your house is roaming room to room collecting loose change and donut orders. It is here, that I came face to face with the future love of my life: the lucullan French Cruller. I’d watched one of my roommates order the cruller every time. I was unimpressed. It was showy and proud, but looked dry and suspiciously like it lacked substance. However, as fate would have it, an order was botched, the cruller sat superciliously before me, I took a bite and never looked back. I now consider a French Cruller to be my choice for a well balanced breakfast.

Most Saturdays I wake up, put my shoes on, wonder out to my car and head for Happy Donuts. Where happily, a French Cruller is waiting for me in all its sticky glory.

This post is dedicated:

• to Aims, who alerted me that yesterday was Donut Day;
• to Whitney, who ordered that first French cruller, has shared many with me since then, and with whom I hope to share many more;
• and especially to Bella, who has often waited in the car after being lured out of bed early on Saturdays with the promise of a walk only to sit in the car while I was fogging up the display window at Happy Donuts.

If I wandered into your room right now for your donut order what would you choose?

29 Stellar Orbits

Happy Birthday Cori! This seems a good day to say how much I love you. And I really, truly do! It also seems appropriate to apologize for teasing you have endured over the years.
Being the youngest girl of six is not an enviable position. Especially as a certain twosome, Honerd* and Rojerk*, (*names changed to protect the guilty) found you to be an especially easy target.

In tribute to unpleasant memories:

• Do you remember how your loving siblings pointed out to you that all the Book of Mormon "Cori"s were baddies: Corianton (naughty son of Alma), Coriantumr (killed off all the Jaredites), Korihor (an Antichrist).

• Remember when we went to Utah that summer without our parents? And someone said you were 11, but you were 12. After you pointed that out, everyone kept referring to you as Cori-who-is-12.

• I also remember with shame how Honor and I would chant "Sharks! Sharks! Octopi! Octopi!" under our breath when we rode over long bridges in the van on road trips.

Ah, good times. Maybe not for you though?

I hope your next stellar orbit is happy and involves a lot less teasing than your first 29 have.
I love you Cori-who-is-29!

Tired of Correcting Lab Reports

Some people think a hypothesis is a guess. They guessed wrong.
A hypothesis is a prediction of future events based on scientific observations. After making a hypothesis you should test an isolated variable and see if it supports your hypothesis.

After you perform your tests, it is appropriate to write a conclusion. In your conclusion, you should never write "my hypothesis was correct" or equally erroneous, "I proved my hypothesis". You should only explain that your data supported or did not support your hypothesis. It would then be correct to explain what further tests you think should be run and what possible errors you might have made in your lab protocol. Your teacher will not mark you down if you explain that you might have collected incorrect data when you knocked the beaker on the floor, ignited your lab coat, ran from the room screaming and later contaminated your apparatus with the contents of a fire extinguisher. Honesty at these times is best. No one believes you if you write that no errors happened when you conducted your lab anyway.

One last piece of helpful information, your report title should be a scientific title, not something you'd write in a creative writing class. Here are some examples.
Gaseous Components Needed for Combustion vs. Our Friend Oxygen Goes Up in Flames.

I hope this was helpful. Please consider using this advice when writing your next lab report.
Also, encourage all you friends to do the same.

Thank you,
Ms. W.