Thanks for all the support this year. It's been an interesting experiment and one that I might pick back up again sometime. We'll see.
Until then, here's to Tacos!
~Julie
Sunday, October 19, 2008
TTC Hiatus
So, I've decided to take a little hiatus from the blog. It might be permanent, I don't know. I have some other projects I want to work on and will be focusing most of my energy on those. I hope this won't disappoint too many blog stalkers, friends, family, etc. In addition, I'm going to put the vault under wraps, so I'm taking it offline. Don't be offended if you get denied and think you didn't get an invite; I'm not inviting anyone. I just want to have the option of opening it back up at some point without losing all my data.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Dear Julie, Dad says take a compass this weekend. Love, Mom.
The title of this posting is what I came home to find on my computer last night.
There are several ... incidents from throughout my life that my family will never, ever let me live down. One is "freshens my breath!" Another is "Freshly squeezed Julie Juice." Another one is "Hey Julie, which way is North?" No matter how hard I try to purge them from memory, they remain in the archives of Bradshaw Family Incrimination Files. The third one on this list, the direction-related one, happened thirteen years ago! Thirteen years. Almost half my life. And my family talks about it like it happened yesterday. And when I say my family, I mean my Dad.
You see, this weekend I'm going to Pennsylvania to bike through Amish country with some friends. That's why Dad is concerned. Sort of. Mostly he's mocking me.
We've always been an athletic family. Heck, we have enough kids for 2 basketball teams plus substitutes. I grew up playing tennis, racquetball, basketball, dodge ball, butt's up, rode bikes constantly, rollerbladed, skateboarded, surfed...you get the idea. One year Dad decided to spend his bonus money and buy the family mountain bikes. We rode those suckers everywhere. There are so many great canyons in San Diego; it was heaven to ride, though a nightmare to drive sometimes. Well, one day during the summer Dad decided for family night we were going to drive to Tecelote Canyon (about 10 miles up the freeway) and bike through it to the fancy-pants mall in La Jolla: UTC. The ride should have taken us no more than 45 minutes. We were going to have ice cream in the food court, then ride back to the car and go home.
It was a nice thought.
My brothers are much faster (read: reckless) bikers than I am and my mom is a more cautious (read: slower) biker than I am. I knew the boys were going to take off and leave me, and I knew Dad was going to stay back with Mom, so I responsibly asked for a description of the trail so that I would have a better idea of where I was supposed to be going. The boys mentioned something about train tracks, some sort of ravine, and the mouth of the canyon. So, I made a mental note of it all and off we went. Of course, they were gone in an instant. I didn't mind - it was the story of my life with them. I started to mind, though, when I got to a fork in the road. Which way, which way? I chose left (I always choose left, which doesn't make much sense because I'm right-handed). Soon I was riding right along side some rail road tracks. Perfect, I thought, I'm right where I should be, because the boys had said something about railroad tracks. Soon, though, I realized that the bay had come into view, which was awfully near home. I stopped and waited for Mom and Dad to catch up to me. I waited and waited. Pretty soon there was a pretty high-pitched noise that started getting louder and louder. Before I knew it, the commuter train was screaming by me, three feet from me (I know, I was really dumb to be standing that close to the tracks, but honestly, I thought they were dead railroad tracks. There are a lot of those in San Diego). It was about then that I started to panic. I was definitely in the wrong place and the sun was starting to set.
I considered riding home from there, but then realized I had no keys and no way of telling my parents that's what I was doing, so I turned around and started riding back in the direction I had come, only when you take a fork in the road, things get a little sticky. I finally got myself out to surface roads and decided to try to get to UTC that way. I ended up on Balboa Avenue...oh dear. I didn't have my license yet so I didn't know my way around driving at all, especially not in that neck of the woods, but I knew enough to know I wasn't anywhere close to the mall. The only thing I could think about was how worried my parents were; I had been gone for over an hour.
I knew I was in real trouble when I pulled into a gas station and asked the attendant which way was UTC. "UTC?" he asked. "What that?" The language barrier made any helpful communication almost impossible. No cell phone, no idea where I was in relation to the mall, no map, no money, I finally started crying outside the gas station. A lady, thankfully, stopped and gave me directions. I was about an hour's ride away. I know, I know. I have no idea how I got that far off course. But I pedaled as fast as I could. I finally made it back to the family at the mouth of the canyon closest to the mall. My Dad had been patrolling the canyon entrances with the truck, my mom waiting at the end of the canyon (sick with worry of course) and my brothers thought it was awesome because when Mom and Dad realized I was missing, they had ordered them to ride as fast as they could back through the canyon to look for me. They came across a homeless man and asked him if he had seen me. When my brothers reported that the only guy in the canyon hadn't seen me, my parents were sure I had been kidnapped or had fallen down a cliff.
After our reunion, we drove to get the promised ice cream. On the way home, as my legs were stiffening from my 2+ hour panicked bike ride, Dad asked me where exactly I had ended up before I turned around. I said, "Down by the bay." Everyone started laughing, some trying harder than others to cover it up. I defiantly asked what was so funny. One of the brothers said, "Julie, the bay is SOUTH!"
"And?" I replied.
"And, dork, UTC is NORTH!"
"I know that, nerd." (I'm not sure I actually knew that.)
"Then why did you bike SOUTH?"
"Because when we started I didn't know if we were north or south of the mall, quagmire."
"But when you saw the bay, didn't you think, maybe I should be going north?"
"Well, that would have been helpful, if I had known which way was north. Besides, I turned around eventually."
"Julie, the bay is to the WEST!! North is not hard to figure out from there."
"Well...I was LOST! And I never get to go camping with you guys anyway. You all get to go to Mt. Whitney and King's Canyon and I have to stay home. It's not my fault! Punks!" (For some reason at that point in my life, camping equalled direction education.)
Mom and Dad put the kabosh on the teasing at that moment, sensing I might start crying (it was the first time I became aware that maybe I should have been embarrassed by what had happened) and I considered the event mostly forgotten. No such luck.
The next morning, as Dad was getting ready to leave for work, I was still being teased by the brothers for the previous evening's escapade. When he walked into the room, he hushed the boys and walked over to me, I thought maybe to comfort me. Instead, he held out his hand and handed me something. It was a mini-compass on a keychain. I was speechless. He burst out laughing. "Don't get lost today, okay?" My brothers came up behind him and said, "Hey Julie! Which way is NORTH?!" And thirteen years later, it's like it happened yesterday. Periodically, when I'm home visiting and am leaving from there on a trip or taking a long car drive to visit a friend, Dad will disappear for a moment and return with a compass in hand, crying he's laughing so hard. One year for Christmas, years after the incident, he even wrapped one up for me all by himself. He got to laugh about that one all day long.
The only problem is, a compass does me no good if I have no idea how to use it.
Dear Daddy, I love you. I'll be safe this weekend, I promise. I at least know which direction is North. Thanks at least for that. ;) Love, Julie.
There are several ... incidents from throughout my life that my family will never, ever let me live down. One is "freshens my breath!" Another is "Freshly squeezed Julie Juice." Another one is "Hey Julie, which way is North?" No matter how hard I try to purge them from memory, they remain in the archives of Bradshaw Family Incrimination Files. The third one on this list, the direction-related one, happened thirteen years ago! Thirteen years. Almost half my life. And my family talks about it like it happened yesterday. And when I say my family, I mean my Dad.
You see, this weekend I'm going to Pennsylvania to bike through Amish country with some friends. That's why Dad is concerned. Sort of. Mostly he's mocking me.
We've always been an athletic family. Heck, we have enough kids for 2 basketball teams plus substitutes. I grew up playing tennis, racquetball, basketball, dodge ball, butt's up, rode bikes constantly, rollerbladed, skateboarded, surfed...you get the idea. One year Dad decided to spend his bonus money and buy the family mountain bikes. We rode those suckers everywhere. There are so many great canyons in San Diego; it was heaven to ride, though a nightmare to drive sometimes. Well, one day during the summer Dad decided for family night we were going to drive to Tecelote Canyon (about 10 miles up the freeway) and bike through it to the fancy-pants mall in La Jolla: UTC. The ride should have taken us no more than 45 minutes. We were going to have ice cream in the food court, then ride back to the car and go home.
It was a nice thought.
My brothers are much faster (read: reckless) bikers than I am and my mom is a more cautious (read: slower) biker than I am. I knew the boys were going to take off and leave me, and I knew Dad was going to stay back with Mom, so I responsibly asked for a description of the trail so that I would have a better idea of where I was supposed to be going. The boys mentioned something about train tracks, some sort of ravine, and the mouth of the canyon. So, I made a mental note of it all and off we went. Of course, they were gone in an instant. I didn't mind - it was the story of my life with them. I started to mind, though, when I got to a fork in the road. Which way, which way? I chose left (I always choose left, which doesn't make much sense because I'm right-handed). Soon I was riding right along side some rail road tracks. Perfect, I thought, I'm right where I should be, because the boys had said something about railroad tracks. Soon, though, I realized that the bay had come into view, which was awfully near home. I stopped and waited for Mom and Dad to catch up to me. I waited and waited. Pretty soon there was a pretty high-pitched noise that started getting louder and louder. Before I knew it, the commuter train was screaming by me, three feet from me (I know, I was really dumb to be standing that close to the tracks, but honestly, I thought they were dead railroad tracks. There are a lot of those in San Diego). It was about then that I started to panic. I was definitely in the wrong place and the sun was starting to set.
I considered riding home from there, but then realized I had no keys and no way of telling my parents that's what I was doing, so I turned around and started riding back in the direction I had come, only when you take a fork in the road, things get a little sticky. I finally got myself out to surface roads and decided to try to get to UTC that way. I ended up on Balboa Avenue...oh dear. I didn't have my license yet so I didn't know my way around driving at all, especially not in that neck of the woods, but I knew enough to know I wasn't anywhere close to the mall. The only thing I could think about was how worried my parents were; I had been gone for over an hour.
I knew I was in real trouble when I pulled into a gas station and asked the attendant which way was UTC. "UTC?" he asked. "What that?" The language barrier made any helpful communication almost impossible. No cell phone, no idea where I was in relation to the mall, no map, no money, I finally started crying outside the gas station. A lady, thankfully, stopped and gave me directions. I was about an hour's ride away. I know, I know. I have no idea how I got that far off course. But I pedaled as fast as I could. I finally made it back to the family at the mouth of the canyon closest to the mall. My Dad had been patrolling the canyon entrances with the truck, my mom waiting at the end of the canyon (sick with worry of course) and my brothers thought it was awesome because when Mom and Dad realized I was missing, they had ordered them to ride as fast as they could back through the canyon to look for me. They came across a homeless man and asked him if he had seen me. When my brothers reported that the only guy in the canyon hadn't seen me, my parents were sure I had been kidnapped or had fallen down a cliff.
After our reunion, we drove to get the promised ice cream. On the way home, as my legs were stiffening from my 2+ hour panicked bike ride, Dad asked me where exactly I had ended up before I turned around. I said, "Down by the bay." Everyone started laughing, some trying harder than others to cover it up. I defiantly asked what was so funny. One of the brothers said, "Julie, the bay is SOUTH!"
"And?" I replied.
"And, dork, UTC is NORTH!"
"I know that, nerd." (I'm not sure I actually knew that.)
"Then why did you bike SOUTH?"
"Because when we started I didn't know if we were north or south of the mall, quagmire."
"But when you saw the bay, didn't you think, maybe I should be going north?"
"Well, that would have been helpful, if I had known which way was north. Besides, I turned around eventually."
"Julie, the bay is to the WEST!! North is not hard to figure out from there."
"Well...I was LOST! And I never get to go camping with you guys anyway. You all get to go to Mt. Whitney and King's Canyon and I have to stay home. It's not my fault! Punks!" (For some reason at that point in my life, camping equalled direction education.)
Mom and Dad put the kabosh on the teasing at that moment, sensing I might start crying (it was the first time I became aware that maybe I should have been embarrassed by what had happened) and I considered the event mostly forgotten. No such luck.
The next morning, as Dad was getting ready to leave for work, I was still being teased by the brothers for the previous evening's escapade. When he walked into the room, he hushed the boys and walked over to me, I thought maybe to comfort me. Instead, he held out his hand and handed me something. It was a mini-compass on a keychain. I was speechless. He burst out laughing. "Don't get lost today, okay?" My brothers came up behind him and said, "Hey Julie! Which way is NORTH?!" And thirteen years later, it's like it happened yesterday. Periodically, when I'm home visiting and am leaving from there on a trip or taking a long car drive to visit a friend, Dad will disappear for a moment and return with a compass in hand, crying he's laughing so hard. One year for Christmas, years after the incident, he even wrapped one up for me all by himself. He got to laugh about that one all day long.
The only problem is, a compass does me no good if I have no idea how to use it.
Dear Daddy, I love you. I'll be safe this weekend, I promise. I at least know which direction is North. Thanks at least for that. ;) Love, Julie.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Abide With Me, Tis Eventide
Abide with me; 'tis eventide.
The day is past and gone;
The shadows of the evening fall;
The night is coming on.
Within my heart a welcome guest,
Within my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
Abide with me; 'tis eventide.
Thy walk today with me
Has made my heart within me burn,
As I communed with thee.
Thy earnest words have filled my soul
And kept me near thy side.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
Abide with me; 'tis eventide,
And lone will be the night
If I cannot commune with thee
Nor find in thee my light.
The darkness of the world, I fear,
Would in my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
My favorite hymn. Its words speak to my soul in a way that is hard for me to explain. It makes me think of asking the Savior to tarry a little longer, knowing his presence will drive away any darkness or loneliness...there is a lot of love and humility in that request. It makes me think of coming home from a long, tiring day, knowing there is a fire in the fireplace, two cozy chairs, and a friend waiting there for me. It makes me think of a dream I had many years ago that involved meeting and worshipping my Savior. It was powerful and affected me deeply. I think of my reunion with Him when I hear this song. Some hymns touch me intermittently, but I cannot sing or hear this song without being touched, without feeling a longing to return to Him, without desiring to repent and live more righteously so that at least His spirit can abide with me, even if He cannot right now. I was listening to this hymn on my way to work today (as sung by George Dyer - it is lovely and very moving) and so it was on my mind. The arrangement is so simple and so sincere, which is the way I try to hear and sing this song, the way I try to feel these sentiments, the way I try to feel my Savior's love.
The day is past and gone;
The shadows of the evening fall;
The night is coming on.
Within my heart a welcome guest,
Within my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
Abide with me; 'tis eventide.
Thy walk today with me
Has made my heart within me burn,
As I communed with thee.
Thy earnest words have filled my soul
And kept me near thy side.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
Abide with me; 'tis eventide,
And lone will be the night
If I cannot commune with thee
Nor find in thee my light.
The darkness of the world, I fear,
Would in my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, 'tis eventide.
My favorite hymn. Its words speak to my soul in a way that is hard for me to explain. It makes me think of asking the Savior to tarry a little longer, knowing his presence will drive away any darkness or loneliness...there is a lot of love and humility in that request. It makes me think of coming home from a long, tiring day, knowing there is a fire in the fireplace, two cozy chairs, and a friend waiting there for me. It makes me think of a dream I had many years ago that involved meeting and worshipping my Savior. It was powerful and affected me deeply. I think of my reunion with Him when I hear this song. Some hymns touch me intermittently, but I cannot sing or hear this song without being touched, without feeling a longing to return to Him, without desiring to repent and live more righteously so that at least His spirit can abide with me, even if He cannot right now. I was listening to this hymn on my way to work today (as sung by George Dyer - it is lovely and very moving) and so it was on my mind. The arrangement is so simple and so sincere, which is the way I try to hear and sing this song, the way I try to feel these sentiments, the way I try to feel my Savior's love.
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