Plural Sister

Jenny. What a simulataneous breath of fresh air and then tornado that will rip your little cottage on the plains apart. It is her funny, sometimes overwhelming self that causes so many to just fall in love with her. I know that I am the luckiest to have that wild child as my sister. And I know that if Harry Styles ever got down on one knee for her he would be the most fortunate young man, undoubtedly. So here are ten things I know about Jenny that you may not.


1. She has no qualms with being without pants when others are over.
2. No conversation is safe from her popping into it with something funny, perhaps mean, to say but always funny in the end.
3. She loves jokes, we bought male boxers with our cousins just the other day and the way that girl was dropping jokes left and right and laughing so hard was something to behold.
4. She wants to, with all her little obsessive heart, marry Harry Styles (she may not like the way I phrased that) but she is the type of girl who when she has a dream, a goal, an ambition, she obsesses over it. She can talk nothing else for weeks, which explains how and why we own a hedgehog.
5. Speech impediment that all children suffer with was even cuter on her. "Ricorish. Rolla. Puppesh."
6. She has minor kleptomania when it comes to others clothing that she takes a fancy to, mine definately included. (so puzzling out the closet issue when I leave will be interesting, of course).
7. She imagines Zombie Apocalypses. Hmmmm. Did not see that one coming?
8. Wicked Wit. I end up repeating most of what she says because I find it so funny, and I just cannot help myself when I find something to be funny like that, just cannot. Ask the show Friends.
9. She has the most natural tumbling ability of anyone I know! Flashback to a few years ago, she asked me to spot her while she tried to do a backflip on an air mattress set up on the family room floor, and this is not my shining moment as a sister, because she asked me and I set my hands on her back to help her out, keep her sturdy and then when the crucial moment came I stepped back and she did a back flip on her own. Man. Who just does that? There was a little resentment for spotting but it was all worth it.
10. She is my only sister, you knew that I know you did, and I often times forget that and I take the kid for granted. But there are also moments when she just means the world to me and I cannot imagine what I would do without her. And as much as I annoy her and she teases me, I love her as only an only sister can I imagine. I will always want to protect her and funnily enough I know she will always do the same for me. That ferocity that is in her comes out in such strength if someone seems about to mess with someone she loves. Her puppy self comes out I suppose, that inner guard dog! I am going to miss her more than I ever suspected, that goof, but I am happy I can always come home to her, to Leo, to Tommy, to my family.

A Day before the June Series

I am to begin a journey that has been planned for, hoped for, crossed toes for, wished and dreamed for. (Dreamed is just a side note). And it involves the hopefully sunlit days of June. 







All of it, the entire June Series, is to prepare for my great leaving of Provo. To fill everyday with such overwhelming laughter and joy as to tickle my down to my toenails! There are a few main attractions of the June series and they happen to be a good handful of friends, who would capture the heart of any miser whether it be Scrooge or Darth Vader (who is just very, very grumpy). So it all will begin tomorrow but already a few adventures have debuted in these few final days of May weather. Including:

Cutting Easton's hair (yikes)

It happened last night, and it began as a joy but as the hair got shorter and as he got quieter my anxiety began to rise steadily. Oh man, occasionally I would giggle and Rachel would laugh out loud making the whole ordeal much more of an ordeal! But it turned out just fine it seems because he still said goodbye and is still talking to me so not to shabby I would say.

June Series

Honestly Teaing Up for Something Rompingly like Art

I don't post terribly often but I have a few life moments I want to document. As someone great once told me, 

"You regret every picture you do not take." 

Well someone told it to someone who then told it to her which was then laughingly told to me.

So here a few treats of a few people I love dearly and have spent a good amount of time with lately! (Alas the Mexico pictures are lost to a very dead battery or else Rachel would be taking her odd bird debut most certainly.)

Isn't she adorable when she laughs? The cute one supposedly got deleted but I disagree.

#nofilternojoke

The artist himself.

Easton hates pictures of his feet, who knew?

There is just a odd cacophony of moments that grew into a flower that rained down the waters that just wet the earth today. Farewell for now!

A bit glum bummed.

This may not be the most heart tickling of blog posts but I need to relieve a little anxiety and blue weather feelings by solemnly, (though hopefully still a little funny), telling them.

*****

Okay I cannot even do it. A down in the dumps blog post is just not necessarily my gift, I suppose! So instead of moping over the fact that I have to, wait, am so thoroughly blessed with the opportunity to go to Wales this summer and then onto Hawaii I am going to remember all the wonderful, and incandescently beautiful things there are about those two places and all the little things I can take with me there!

First off, Wales. Green sunsets, floating hills. Ha, just pulling your leg. There are the most achingly gorgeous hills in Wales though, rolling, smooth, emerald with many, many sheep all atop them. Ah, to be lost in those hills will probably have me singing robustly, "The hills are alive, with the sound of music." and then trilling my heart out with sighs of awe. And traveling into the regions of London and other places that all dreams carry us Americans too.
Alright, I am very, very excited for that part of the journey into the isles of life.

And then the second leg of the journey, I get to come home for about a week and a half before I continue onwards to Hawaii, or Havaii, or BYU (Island edition). I cannot imagine Hawaii let alone living and thriving there. But I am being honest here when I wholeheartedly believe that my Father in Heaven has a plan for me over there, for so many signs have pointed to it and so I will go and leave my sweet little Provo behind. Not forever mind you. No, I will always call Provo home now. It's busy school terms and then tranquil summers, the rushing friends, lingering neighbors, Utah Lake and all its carpy friends, the Library that is ethereal and magical, Canter Street with all its funny idiosyncrasies, PHS, Kiwanis Park that has held so many "wild parties" over the years, the well used Y trail, and of course the creamery. These all come together to create a small eden, a very silly eden, but still its own parched paradise.

So what will I take with me to Hawaii? Well, to Wales I am planning on finding before I go an excellent pair of overalls to top off my wonderful cranberry red rain coat and those two will find their way with me to Hawaii. But more importantly I will carry in my, sure to be overflowing, suitcase: the congreve cube, my mumford inspiration poster (thank you, Taylor), potentially my three goldfish, my collage of all things Abbey and Libby project, my personal mantra collage, that picture of Hannah, Justin and I all on a sledding inner tube cheekily grinning at the camera, my picture of a fedora'd President Gordon B. Hinckley, also my Rachel collage and dream catcher, as well as a heart full of laughter and joy because of every blessed moment that I have lived here on Hillsdale, that I have know Libby, Taylor, Theresa, Hannah, Rachel, for each scraped knee and bruised ankle that gave me such a perspective on how to say "ow", neopets, bryer horses, anything and everything wonderful that has ever occurred to me. So even the other day when Easton took me to romp with the musicians and candles. To tell the truth there are to  many things to count on my list of lovely things! So thank you Provo you always have done me well. I love you.

Lovingly, Abs

Lost Ponderings

I love the photographs that give you so many questions, to many to write all down. 

It may be silly but the scene just above, it caused me to just stop and stare. I could not pull my eyes away. I was lost in the small lives that occurring constantly. We are all wanderers lost on this earth. And it may just be our job to appreciate all our fellow wanderers. So feel free to question away, be lost in the magic of a thought, of the stories that go unknown and lost every day and make your own.

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice

You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing it loud

Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova, Falling Slowly

In the Bottom of Everything

"When Ego is lost, limit is lost. You become infinite, kind, beautiful."

This was the message I found at the edge of my Egyptian Licorice tea bag. Now you must understand the marvel Egyptian Licorice tea it is: it causes you to ponder the implicit details of why a stone could be round, why peace sits in a dove's wings, why Brian Kershiznek could create such art that you feel tears pricking your eyes from the sheer force of it, why a single song could cause you to tremor with pure elation, and where you will find both jubilation and the calmness that rests on a winter's sunset. That is Egyptian Licorice tea. I have found my flavor at long last, this will be it. 

And not only does Egyptian tea do that for you but it also gives you your latest mantra (to add to the long list of mantra's that you have already acquired, nonetheless). So that will be my new chant to every step, by losing my ego all limitations will be lost, and I can be infinite, kind and beautiful. What more could you ask for or desire of yourself? 

Often I imagine we are to hard on ourselves. We are all prey to the monster that is called self criticism. He puts his large paws over our eyes and covers our vision from recognizing the greatest goodness that is us. Who we are. Who we were created to be. Which is 

Infinite

Kind

&

  

     Beautiful.   

We seem to forget so easily that that is who we truly are. Varying kinds of the infinite rest within us. Some have infinite capacities of imagination, others infinite laughter, to a few the sheer power to understand the infinite. I know my friend Theresa owns the force of comprehending the infinite. When we go out to her ranch it is impossible to not feel the infinite. There is something eternal about hay bales, large steaming horses standing out in the snowy fields, overpowering gusts of wind and hills that frame a horizon. Growing up around these things has taught her. Same with a view of the ocean, gazing across it hoping to spot France or even just an island and seeing nothing to even collide with either sky or sea. And then there are those that when you with them you feel a small part of what it is to be infinite. I sat one night on a brick porch, clutching a hot chocolate cup with a ceiling of stars and a good friend close beside me, rubbing shoulders. We laughed endlessly about musical instruments strung as swings and other such tomfooleries but it was such an endless moment. 

Kindness. "Kind people are the best kind of people", a pin from the extraordinary site called pinterest. And I must say that I agree. When you meet a person in this world who is concerned with those around them. You feel so instinctively drawn to them. And I know so many, oh so many kind people and inadvertently they are also the most beautiful people. Those who radiate the truth that is within them. They are beautiful. 

Beauty also comes in many forms. It can be large or small. A suprising sort of beauty and classic beauty. And call me silly but I do not think just girls are beautiful. Men are beautiful. There is a masculine beauty as well. And beauty in words. The greatest beauty of all if you ask me. But there is a wild, unvanquished beauty that comes in art as well. Everything is beautiful in it's own way. Never forget that you simply are beautiful. And so much more than the beauty the world is seeking and pestering for. No, you are the beauty that deserves to be glorified in prose and verse, in art, in the world around you. Reflect all that is infinite and kind and you are beautiful. Be who you were created to be. That is most beautiful!

Here are some lyrics that I cannot help but be invested in their unsparing, strange and exciting beauty:

   So there was this woman and she was on an airplane, and she was flying to meet her fiancé seaming high above the largest ocean on planet earth. She was seated next to this man she had tried to start conversations, but the only thing she had really heard him say was to order his Bloody Mary. She was sitting there and she was reading this really arduous magazine article about a third world country that she couldn’t even pronounce the name of. And she was feeling very bored and despondent. And then suddenly there was this huge mechanical failure and one of the engines gave out, and they started just falling thirty-thousand feet, and the pilots on the microphone and he’s saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god... I'm sorry” and apologizing. And she looks at the man and says “Where are we going?” and he looks at her and he says “We’re going to a party. It’s a birthday party. It’s your birthday party. Happy birthday darling. We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much.” And then he starts humming this little tune, it kind of goes like this: 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4

We must talk in every telephone
Get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have read
And in the face of every criminal
Strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing

It’ll go like this:

While my mother waters plants
My father loads his guns
He says death will give us back to God
Just like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean

And then they splashed into the deep blue sea
It was a wonderful splash

We must blend into the choir
Sing as static with the whole
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul
And in this endless race for property and privilege to be won
We must run, we must run, we must run

We must hang up in the belfry
Where the bats and moonlight laugh
We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
And in the caverns of tomorrow
With just our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge

And then we’ll get down there, way down to the very bottom of everything
And then we’ll see it, oh we’ll see it, we’ll see it, we’ll see it

Oh my morning's coming back
The whole world’s waking up
All the city buses swimming past
I’m happy just because
I found out I am really no one.

Bright Eyes, Bottom of Everything.
 Brian Kershiznek painting, Travelers? 

The Idea of Opaque.

I will be the first to confess that I am not good at writing on this here darn tootin' blog. And I have begun to realize how infinitely important it is to get our words down. These fleeting thoughts that may mean a whole universe and a half soon.

So here I go, splitting my tongue and fingers with the rate these words might come out. (watch out)!

This story just came to me. In Sixth Grade, the grade where you felt so close to the Supreme Ruler of the Universe that you could laugh in the face of darkness and nothing and say "poop" and feel no fear. And yet, I had a healthy dose of respect and fear for this rad girl another who had moved in from California, who was not our very precious Libby. At this point in time I was beginning to get a bit better at making friends than I had been before and this California Chick was becoming a new friend, yea dog. Anywho, one day we were talking and she told me, "Oh, I hate reading. Don't you?" And for some stupid reason I leapt to say, "Yea, yea, of course I do. It just, is you know, like ridiculous."

Okay ask again, "Do you hate reading?"

I LOVE READING! IT IS THE MOST INNER PART OF MY BEING! BOOKS! GIVE ME BOOKS OR GIVE ME DEATH!

So there we go, I had to get off my chest, let her know through the force of the Universe that I, in fact, do no hate reading. No, I thrive off reading. Dream of reading when I am doing other things. A bathtub and a new book? Bliss, incandescent bliss!

Opaque. Probably the strangest word in existence in our vast vocabulary of baffling words. Yet everytime I hear it fills me with such a overwhelming euphoria that I have to look straight up and kind of giggle/choke.
                 Opaque.

OPAQUE.

opaque. 

OPAQUE!

And glory, I adore the word glory. Hmmm, words what a sweet form of confession.

Lastly, I just want to write a quick note to Taylor Ann Rose, my dear one.

dear taylor,

please note that i found a special font that resembles a type writer. just for you. i thought it might give a nice touch! any who, i just wanted to quickly confess how very much i admire you. your soul is much more brilliant than any of us can comprehend. it radiates wit and intellect, it effuses music and the beauty that comes with the gift of a creator. i am serious when I say your laugh, though you find it ridicules and embarrasses you, is one of the most heartfelt sincere laughs that i cannot control my own independent, stubborn laughter from jumping out to catch up with yours. keep that heart that is so tender and sensitive to the world around it and if you ever asked me, like elpheba once asked glinda, to come with you (not to just the Emerald City) but to come and simply defy gravity, to race away from the grasping hands that are trying to tie down your wings, i would not hesitate to come with! thank you for all the years, they have been mighty and good. never give up on that dream, take a leap of faith, i have such a feeling that it will be. anywho, i love you. stay safe. celebrate. embrace the you that is a lion wearing glasses and a beard, the nancy drew of pro-start, the mad banjo-rocking, heart singing, line treasuring, effulgent being you are. 

be infinite.

sincerely, the one and only abs