Shh! Did you hear that?

The old man is snoring again. :)

Mm... doesn't it just make you want to curl up in a blanket by the window and watch it pour?

The past couple of days have been stormy to a fault! (A good fault.) The visitor's center has flooded with people, who are slightly more on the prod with the weather slowing down their plans. It's ok, though, because I love the brooding, yet cozy feeling of rain and grey skies. The clouds seriously make me so happy! 

Also, I discovered I have podcasts of the LDS General Conference's from 2009 and 2010 on my iPod, which makes morning study a little easier! 

It made me miss the days in Ephraim when I'd stall my studies at the library and look up things on lds.org for relief society lessons. (Or... maybe just for the sake of stalling. ;) )

So I maybe am going to thought barf via Mormon Messages right now. :)

(Ang, I figured you'll appreciate this one since it's from your city!)

I know I totally sound like a broken record, but I have SO many of these moments working at the visitor's center. It's been so amazing to feel a change in my views of people in general, and to feel just a teeny tiny bit of what Heavenly Father must feel. (Like... teeeeeeny teeny tiny. I'm sure I barely even have a glimmer, and that's insane to me! On good days, I feel like I love everyone. :) But Heavenly Father has a much deeper love, and understanding of each of us. I truly know and believe that.)

Once upon a time this summer, in my journal, I wrote something down. And it was ridiculously dramatic, but for a second there I didn't know that I believed in love. Watching my family, and other couples around me, though, has re-installed a belief. I believe... in a thing called love. (I sincerely hope every one of you is now singing that song. In the same octave. ;) )

So, now that you've got my thought barf... I'm not entirely sure where I was going with any of this, but I do have a story. From work. (You're all surprised, I know.)
An older couple, and their daughter came into the bookstore yesterday, when I was alone and closing. They asked a bunch of questions- which usually peeves me because that's what interps are out here for. It's called "information desk" for a reason. I ended up going over to the poster bins, and helping them figure out posters, and explained where different shots were taken. The daughter had down syndrome, and she kept fixing her clip in her hair and tugging on her bangs. I stopped explaining posters for a moment and visited with her about her cute pants and cute hair. She grinned and told me thank you and I swear she stepped a little closer after that while I answered more questions. In the conversation, the mother had asked my name. (I'm feeling some serious regret for not turning the question around, in case you wondered.) They said they only had the next day (today) to see the park, but they would probably come back to pick up the poster on their way home.
Today I almost forgot about the cute family, because today was lethal. That isn't even a hyperbole. I'm on a serious treatment to recover now: ice cream, and grandma's cookies.
We're short staffed, and so it's an awkward 3 shift schedule where it's hard to get anything done, because you're always covering for someone. I love the sweet little ladies that work there to death, but they seem to always leave the desk without mentioning where they're headed and then stock their section. Which means I sort of have to stay at the register. Which means I ran out of sweaters something fierce, and most of my t-shirts. Which means after I packed in seven thousand Impact boxes, Paula got after me for my pitiful section. So I made warehouse runs. Twice. Because a woman wanted a medium zip up and they were still in a box in a warehouse 2 miles away. Do you think she was there after I ran (literally) to the truck and then to the warehouse and flung boxes like a mad woman to get her the sweater? No. Of course not...
Needless to say, my grumpiness was getting the best of me, when I saw three familiar smiling faces. (No, Erin, it wasn't even dead ancestors this time. ;p)
They plopped a poster down, the daughter grinned at me, and tugged at her clip in her hair. I asked about their day in the park, and they told me their adventure of Queen's Garden, and how climbing back out of the canyon is and other such excitement. When I finished, she told me it was good to meet me, smiled, and trundled off after her husband, the daughter in hot pink pants following after shooting one more grin toward me when I finally caught her eye in the middle of my next transaction.
It wasn't like it was anything huge, or like they told me something that changed my life vastly, but there was just a sweet spirit about them. And they did change my life. It's like the song "For Good" from Wicked. (Cherene, my Aunt, you'll appreciate that one I think. :) )

Life is really weird. And kind of infuriating, and stressful and scary and huge. And a little bit amazing. :)