huff and puff

I rode my bike to the library for the first time in about two years. One of  my absolute favorite warm-weather activities. Problem was, it shows that I haven’t ridden a bike in a veeeeeery long time. You may snort and wonder why I never touched a bike on my mission? Well, I had a car for six months in one area, and in other areas it was either too cold or we just didn’t have bikes. It’s okay—I love walking, and public transportation in Sweden kicks the trash out of anything we have here.

The result: I was no more than halfway to the library and my muscles were already screaming in pain. No good.  I felt really pathetic, especially with all of the duktig (Swedish for talented) cyclists streaming past me from time to time with their perfectly calibrated road bikes and spandex suits, no doubt turning up their noses at my BYU basketball shorts, “it’s just a flesh wound” t-shirt, and ordinary bicycle. Not to mention how slowly I was going with a pained expression on my face. Ouch.

Well, I’ll get back in shape. And it was definitely worth it when I got to the library. I had two books on hold, How to Train your Dragon by Cressida Cowell and the Goose Girl by Shannon Hale (for next month’s book club in my singles ward). I checked them out immediately and went to the library courtyard to read in the sun. It felt so good. It felt like I belonged there. Like I had every right to be sitting on that bench reading in my library. As a missionary I spent a lot of time in libraries, because they’re good, safe, warm public places to teach people. But I never felt like I really belonged there, since I wasn’t supposed to read the thousands of books at my fingertips, and because of all of the obvious staring and glaring at our nametags. We felt like intruders most of the time. I even heard stories of one particular library employee who deliberately sought out the sister missionaries in the middle of teaching investigators and kicked them out for proselyting in a government institution or something (they tried to explain that they already knew the people they were teaching and hadn’t been approaching random strangers, but to no avail). But in this library, here, I felt welcome and normal. People didn’t look at me like I was a freak or a criminal. I had every right to be here. Of course, as a missionary, I had every right to be there too. But the looks on peoples’ faces make that harder and harder to believe over time.

Anyway, it was just another nice reminder that I’m really home.

(In retrospect, that’s a rather negative thought about my mission. I’ll have to write more about my mission in the future to erase any shred of doubt that I had an absolute blast as a missionary in Sweden.)

processing…

Well I’ve been home for almost a month now. Okay, three and a half weeks. But it’s crazy. I’m still in the process of figuring out what to do with the next few years of my life. The current plan is this: about two more years at BYU, graduate with a bachelor’s in English and minors in Scandinavian Studies and Editing. I think after that, I want to get a Master’s in Comparative Literature. We’ll see.

And what has happened since I’ve been home? I’ve decided I don’t have time to get a job before I head back to BYU at the end of June, so I’m very available for service projects and odd jobs and things like that. I went to the bishop’s storehouse once (and had a blast!). I’ve been going to institute and YSA activities and to the temple. I’ve also been on my first couple of dates–quite an accomplishment for an awkward returned missionary, if I do say so myself.

And, of course, I’ve been reading up a storm. I’ve read some Shojo Manga (Ouran High School Host Club and Lizard Prince), a guilty pleasure, as well as the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Anne Shaffer and Annie Barrows  and Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones. One of my favorite things to do is just walk through the library and browse the shelves and wait for a book to jump out and grab me. That’s how I found Guernsey. It was on the bestseller shelves and the title intrigued me. It’s about a writer in London who receives a letter from a pig farmer out on Guernsey in the English Channel, who has an old book that used to belong to her and wants to know if she knows anything else by the same author. She starts corresponding with him and other residents of the island, people who also belong to this “literary society,” a group formed during World War II. She becomes enchanted with them and their stories, ultimately goes to visit them, and falls in love with the island itself.  It’s a wonderful story, and one fun thing about it is that it consists entirely of letters between the different characters in the story.  I loved it. Howl’s was also fun, but I think I read it too fast, and there’s a lot of information, especially at the end. I got a little confused. I liked it, though, so I don’t mind reading it again.  I tried reading Twilight for the first time ever but I couldn’t get through it, nor could I finish Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Twilight was interesting and sucked me in, but I found it really disturbing at the same time. Zombies was funny at first, but I got bored with it.

What else? I went up to Arcata with my dad last week, because he had a meeting at Humboldt State University. After his meeting we went up to Redwoods National Forest and went for a hike. That was really nice. I had missed redwood trees so much in Sweden! There is just a feel and a smell to the redwood forests here in California that you can’t get anywhere else. It felt so good to be home.

It really does feel good to be home. I miss many things about Sweden, namely food and people and public transportation :p , but America is my home. We had the elders over for dinner on Sunday, and they asked what I missed about my mission. I said those things–that I missed the people and the food and things like that–and one of the elders asked me if I miss missionary work. I couldn’t really give him a clear answer. I loved my mission; I loved being a missionary and teaching people these truths that are so precious to me, but at the same time, I don’t miss being a missionary. I’m still me. I’m still the same person. I think the things I loved most about being a missionary have come home with me. I just have a new mission now. I will always serve Heavenly Father, but in different ways, and I was happy and excited to move on to new adventures. I don’t know if that makes any sense to anyone else. Thoughts?

People keep asking me how my adjustment back to “normal” life is going. I tell them I’m still “processing.” Like, I’m going through these experiences and memories in my mind and putting them in their proper place, as I continue to live my life and create new experiences and memories. I feel like a lot of these changes have come to me rather naturally since I’ve returned home, but somewhere in the back of my mind there’s a little Haley doing filing work to get all of those papers and things organized. I’m not too worried. Little Haley will catch up.

hello again!

Wow. It has been a really long time, hasn’t it? And yet, it feels like it was yesterday I was sitting here blogging about my silly scarves.

Sweden was amazing. Sorry it didn’t really work out with the missionary blog. My brother was in charge of that, haha. But hey, he got like all A’s this last quarter, so at least he’s doing something useful with his time!

More later…

And one last post

Here it is. I’m getting set apart as a missionary tomorrow night. Which most likely means no more internet (and even if it is allowed, I won’t have time!).

So this blog is on a temporary hiatus, until I return from Sweden in a year and a half. However, in about December I will be able to start e-mailing my family every week, and my brother will post some of my e-mails on my special mission blog, Haley’s Mission to Sweden (http://systerhegstrom.wordpress.com).

Check it out. And if you want to write me, my mission address is on the “about” page of both of my blogs.

Vi ses!

One more knitting picture

I finally finished my scarf!

That’s my fifth and final of the summer. This is what became of that delicious Inca Cotton yarn (Joseph Galler, Inc.) that I bought at Green Planet Yarn. It took the whole twist, minus a few inches. I’m going to attempt to write a pattern for it at the bottom of this post.

The other thing I wanted to say was that I was originally going to take it with me to Sweden, but then I heard about the Red Scarf Project, and now I’m seriously considering giving my beloved scarf up. The Red Scarf Project takes donated homemade scarves and gives them to foster kids entering college. Did that just break your heart? It did mine. I just wish I’d heard about it a month or two ago, because I could have made an extra scarf just for the project. As it is, this is what I have. And it was fun to make, but I don’t really need it. I’m kind of a scarf addict, so I’ve got plenty. It’s always way more fun to make scarves for other people, anyways.

(p.s. I know my scarf isn’t red, but they accept any gender-neutral color)

The reason I mention the Red Scarf Project at all isn’t to make myself look good (remember, “considering” giving up the scarf means “considering” keeping it, too :p ). But I figure that the more links there are to this amazing organization, the more a few other ambitious knitters out there will find out about it. Even if I don’t give this scarf up, I might inspire some other people to donate to the project this year (The current submission period this year is September 1 through October 31, so you knitters out there better get started!). And now that I know about it, I have some good knittins to look forward to when I come back! Besides my goal to make a sweater.

Okay, here’s my attempt at writing a knitting pattern, so unless you’re really interested, you can stop reading now. :p

Haley’s Cable Scarf

Cast on 38 stitches.

So I started and finished with a little bit of ribbing just to make the ends smooth, so it’s about 6 rows of knit 1, purl 1, on both sides.

Then the cabling starts.

Row 1: Purl 2, knit 6, purl 2, knit 4, purl 2, knit 6, purl 2, knit 4, purl 2, knit 6.

Row 2: Knit 2, purl 6, knit 2, purl 4, knit 2, purl 6, knit 2, purl 4, knit 2, purl 6.

Repeat Rows 1 and 2 one more time each.

Then you do the same stitching for Row 1, except now you do the cable stitch-switching (I’m a great pattern-writer—you can tell I know what I’m talking about! :p ). It looks something like this:

Purl 2, put 3 stitches on cable needle, knit 3, knit the 3 stitches off the cable needle, purl 2, knit 4, purl 2, do the same thing with the cable needle, purl 2, knit 4, purl 2, do the same with the cable needle, purl 2.

Do the next row just like Row 2, then do the same Row 1, Row 2 pattern for 10 rows

When you feel like your scarf is just about long enough (for me it was when I could tell I was running out of yarn), do (I think) only 5 rows (Row 2, Row 1, Row 2, Row 1, Row 2) after the cable switcharoo, then 6 rows of knit 1, purl 1 ribbing.

Bind off.

I’m sorry it’s not more concrete than that, but I was just kind of figuring it out as I went along. You might have to play with it a little to get it to look right. Just remember that you do the cable switcharoos when you’re knitting on the front side and any switching between ribbing and cables is done on the front side. If that makes sense.

Good luck!

A note on politics

I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but I’m going to be gone before the November election, and yet I’m encouraging people to vote on this or that (vote Obama! vote yes on California proposition 8!). Don’t worry. I’m a permanent absentee voter. I will in fact be perfectly capable of voting in this election. All of you staying home, it’s even easier for you. Don’t let your vote go to waste. Research the issues, even a little bit, and make sure you understand what your vote means. And then use it. I don’t care if you disagree with me. Just play your role as an active and invested citizen of the United States of America. Remember Dante: The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in a time of moral crisis, remain neutral.

Don’t be a fence-sitter. Vote.

T-minus two weeks and counting…

That’s right. Two weeks from today I will be entering the MTC. That’s crazy. I had my farewell on Sunday, which went really well. People definitely pay more attention when you tell relevant stories (which makes the things you’ve learned more personal) and bear your testimony from the heart. I’d like to think that the only people not paying attention were screeching children. Actually, a lot of people couldn’t be there for one reason or another. My best friend Allison’s knee went out (she showed up at my house later in a knee brace…which just shows you how much she loves me ). One person had a migraine (poor kid!). Lots of people were out of town or had a simultaneous commitment they couldn’t get out of. And that’s fine, because a farewell’s not supposed to be some big pageant anyway. It’s just a missionary speaking in church before they leave. It’s nice to know that peoples’ lives will go on without me while I’m gone.

I’m just tying up loose ends—like calling Wells Fargo and telling them I’m going to be in Sweden for a year and a half so they shouldn’t worry when purchases start popping up on my card over there—and gathering a few more bits and bobs from my list. I bought towels on Monday, for example. And today I’m going to Costco to order new glasses and contacts—the contacts for the first time ever except for my trial pair, the glasses with a brand new prescription. I think I’m getting emo-type frames so that’ll be fun. I thought my old glasses were cute when I got them, because I thought they looked like little granny glasses (I must have been the only 18-year-old in the world who thought it’d be cute to look like a grandma), but now they’re just kind of blah. Not to mention the right lens keeps popping out in the occasional mad break for freedom.

I also think I’ve more-or-less got the luggage situation figured out. I’ve decided to use my brother’s old suitcases after all. They’re used-looking, but no worse than brand-new ones would look after a few transfers (with an Elder. I think “normal use” by a Sister and “normal use” by an Elder constitute entirely different things). He left his carry-on behind in England, but those are easier to acquire (in my opinion) than a whole big new set. Cheaper too. We have some laying around the house, and I’m not picky about my luggage matching, so I think it’ll be just fine. As long as I don’t go over the weight limit.

You know, and it still hasn’t really sunk in that I’m leaving so soon, and that I’m going to Sweden, of all places. I think that every time I start to feel excited, I squash it down and go back into denial mode. I wonder why that is. Am I worried about being too excited, so I repress the feeling? And why would that worry me? Do I think it’s too good to be true? Or am I getting swallowed up in fears and worries and stress? Stress, in getting everything ready, fears and worries that something will suddenly come up to not let me go, or that I’ll get out there and go back to my lazy habits and fail?

And yet, as I’m typing all of this, I’m completely, totally calm. More emotion-squashing? Who knows. Jitters have always affected me in weird ways.

Save the Family

Joy Saunders Lundberg and Janice Kapp Perry have teamed up to write a song called “Save the Family,” and a video has been created with this song in the background and posted on YouTube. Its primary purpose is to spread the word about the importance of the family and to support California Proposition 8 this November. Okay, it’s Mormon pop, and therefore just the teeniest bit cheesy, but its message is good and its moral is strong. If Americans (and, right now, specifically Californians) do not stand up to pressure and protect the family, our nation will crumble. It is as simple as that. If we cannot support and respect a president who has cheated on his wife, how can we let this fly?

Watch the video.

Vote yes on Proposition 8.

Here’s the url. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1GRQGc5GQ0. Pass it along.

T–minus 20 days and counting…

That’s right. In 20 days I will be in the MTC. That’s crazy. I don’t even have luggage yet (yeah, I really need to get cracking on that one).

This week has been a flurry of unproductivity. Well, I went to the temple again on Tuesday and I consider that VERY productive. And I’ll say, I already feel a lot better about it! It wasn’t as scary this time because I actually knew what to expect, and I had some idea what I was doing. And I got to go see the Temple President and ask him all sorts of questions, and that helped too. He was awesome! He told me to come back, because he likes talking about temple stuff. I know that things in the temple are too sacred to mention outside, but inside I love that you can ask questions. It truly is a house of learning, and that furthers my belief that it is a little piece of heaven on earth. I think heaven is the one place where you can ask any question you want and get the full and true answer. It is also a place that never runs out of questions, if that makes sense. Because every answer you get opens up more and more questions (like that saying that it is the truly learned who truly realize how little they know), and you never stop learning! You keep learning and progressing and growing throughout eternity.

I’ve been puttering around and getting all sorts of little things done, but in reality we should be cleaning the house and getting ready for our “not” open house Sunday. I’m speaking on church Sunday (everyone speaks in church just prior to serving a mission and just after returning), and so we’re having food at our house for anyone who wants to stop by and say goodbye to me. We’re not really supposed to have a “farewell” and make a big hullabaloo about me leaving, but it does make sense to have a time when anyone can come to visit and say goodbye, since I’ll be gone for a year and a half. It also seems soon to say goodbye, but next Sunday is the primary program, and the Sunday after that I’ll have already left for Utah, to enter the MTC that Wednesday. It’s funny how things sneak up on you. I think part of it is also because I invited a few nonmembers to come hear me speak, and it seems rude to be like, “well, thanks for coming to see me, you should either go to gospel essentials or go home.” It’s much kinder to say “well, there’s food at my house if you’re interested and you have some time to chat!” Another thing kind of weighing on my mind about the whole matter is I feel like I’m inviting everyone last-minute. But then, I wasn’t given much time between when I got my call and when I’m supposed to report. I remember with my brother it was a few months and he had plenty of time to prepare, and people kind of had advance notice. Oh well. I’m glad I don’t have to wait so long!

I also went and visited some of my old high school teachers this week. They always love to chat, but every year they grow a little more distant, a little less involved in my life (and I in theirs). That’s fine; I mean, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. They nave a new fresh crop of students every year to worry about, and while they’re happy to have made a difference in my life, that time has come and passed and it’s time for new students for them and new teachers for me. It’s not like their entire universe revolves around when one little old student comes back to visit. I guess it’s always just a bit sad to grow up and move on.

And I can’t make a post today without dwelling on the fact that it’s September 11. Has it really been seven years? This day was made Patriot Day, a holiday to remember what happened. But what are we going to do with that memory? What does it really mean? Other holidays are easier. Independence Day you remember the signing of the Declaration of Independence and remember how thankful you are to be an American Citizen and to have the basic freedoms of life. Thanksgiving you remember all sorts of things you’re thankful for, one of those being, once again, living here in America and having religious freedom that the pilgrims came all the way across the Atlantic Ocean for. Christmas is the birth of Christ, wherein we give gifts to each other and remember the one great gift of His sacrifice and Atonement. And so on and so forth. But Patriot Day? I think that what it means to me (and therefore what it should mean to others, of course :p) is a day to remind us that there is ugliness and hate in the world and to make us ask ourselves what we are doing to combat that ugliness and hate. What are we doing to foster peace and understanding, not just with other countries but among our own fellow citizens? It is a day to remind us that diplomacy and discussion and reason will always be more effective and more noble than acts of violence.

conta–whaat?? part 2

So I got contacts on Wednesday. Weird. Seriously, they’re really weird. I’m getting more used to them now, but it’s still weird putting them in and taking them out. I thought yesterday there was something seriously wrong with the prescription in my right eye, but I put the contact back in the cleaner and it was fine—I’d probably just smudged it with finger oils or something. The optometrist still thinks I’m weird because it’s such a weak prescription, but it is nice to be able to see street signs. And I think it’ll get better when I’m more used to them. Right now I kind of get a headache if I stare too hard at something. Well, if they still bother me after a couple of weeks I’ll figure I’m not meant for contacts. I guess we’ll see! The adventures continue…