This is my nook.

"My dream, I remember, when I went to boarding school, was to have a study all my own, a little nook someplace where nobody could get at me - nobody, like the football coach." -Harry Mathews (This quote only partially applies to me.)


I have always wanted to live in something that one could justifiably call a nook. My room in Berkeley was the master bedroom. It was much larger than I required. I could have made twin snow angels side by side and still have had plenty of unoccupied floor space. But now, I officially live in a nook. Sure, I can't sprawl out on the floor anymore, but now there's no need because nooks aren't for sprawling.


It's actually a little smaller than it looks. And yes, folks, the ceiling is that low.


Guys, I love love love this room, oh, I heart it. It's just my own little corner, and when I look at my bookshelf, sometimes I just sigh with a contented smile on my face, and sometimes I stand in front of it with my hands clasped together just looking at it and thinking about my books...And I love my little desk....and my pretty pillow....and my little pictures....and my little lamp....and when I was in Seattle, I went to bed one night thinking, "oh, I just love my little room..." (and it's CHEAP.)


You are all welcome to visit.


Other things. Ahem:


1. Utah is phenomenal because I manage to see people that I have not seen in ages. People (ok, Mormon people, specifically) often manage to make it out here. For example, in the last four days, I have seen Emily, Jen, Jessica, Laticia, Melissa, Megan, Curt, and Sarah. Most of these people I have not seen for at least three years. Unfortunately, I only took a picture of me, Megan, and little Bree, but none of the pictures turned out well, so I went with the poorest.




2. Happy birthday, Me:

3. Grandma taught me how to knit. I taught Tyson how to unravel.


4. Doesn't Foot look great?!? Note to readers: the incision actually went all the way up between my toes, but you wouldn't know it, would you? Good job, Dad. Man, that guy sure can sew.*

*I am vaguely remembering a time watching my dad sew up a hole in a sock (by the way, I think it was a white athletic sock. Who does that?? Come on, Dad, just buy a new sock...) and I asked him where he learned how to sew. He told me he learned in the Navy. Looking back, it occurs to me that Dad was never in the Navy. I'm pretty sure it was in med school.