Saturday, May 07, 2016


I've been feeling unusually blue recently. Spring is attempting to make itself known in Utah and while I recognize its efforts in the blooms on trees, the arrival of many ducks, and an uptick in rain, it's not central PA.

There are no daily thunderstorms that shake the house and occasionally send you to the basement in case that one oak falls on the roof this time.

The rolling hills don't turn that deep russet with new buds waiting to explode.

Creeks don't overspill their banks and give old bridges new reasons for being. There are surprisingly few breezes here bringing in the complex and promising smell of Spring that leaves you longing as the last of the snow clings to the shady spots under the thick canopy of trees.

It seems like it should be small, this one little weather thing. That it shouldn't trigger the grief over all that was left behind in that place--but I remember in the first Spring we lived there in 2005, noticing all of the above and sobbing with relief as I felt that I had finally, finally come home.

I still love my work and BYU feels more like home than I think Penn State ever could because the expectation that I can be a totally devoted Latter-Day Saint AND a critical thinker AND be a contributing academic is the norm (actually, those are more the requirements) and I didn't, generally speaking, feel like it was really okay to be a MORMON PhD candidate at Penn State. (With about three notable exceptions.)

I don't really expect that I'll ever go back to State College permanently. But this afternoon I miss it all, and the dear friends I associate with it all. I have this intense desire to get on a plane and go home, even though I'd just have to turn around and come right back here. Homesick.

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