Kyra Moon

Last Friday, Kevin and I put our kids to bed and then headed off to the temple. We were going because it had been a little while, but we were also going to decide for sure about Kevin's postdoc. To tell the truth, I've known in my heart for a long time that we were going to move, so I wasn't going to ask about that. Instead, I went with this question: "What more do we need to do in Ann Arbor?" I wasn't expecting a big, life-changing answer -- for instance, it's hard to start a nonprofit in just three months. And I didn't really get one. Instead, the impression that has stuck with me is to "be a friend." Although that should be an obvious thing to do, in some ways it was sort of hard to do this week. Kevin had a paper due today that he didn't have all the theory worked out for, so he spent most of the week working on it til past 1 or 2 in the morning. It usually took John somewhere between 1-3 hours to actually fall asleep for naps o

First, He always starts later than you expect. He's busy, after all! He might give you a few hints here and there in March, and He might green up the grass for you, but don't expect much more til April. That's when He washes His hands (He likes to wash His hands a lot, which is why it rains so much) and gets to work. That first rainstorm leaves the trees with a green coating, proving Robert Frost wrong. Nature's first green is not gold but rather moss. But it disappears as quickly as it came, and you spend the next few days squinting, assuring yourself that there really was green there. You might even convince yourself you still can see it. April 6th A few days later, He opens up his latest version of Microsoft Paint and opts for the airbrush. Armed with a gray background, gray-brown trees, and some green spray paint, He gets to work, starting from the ground and working up. April 11th. Those permalinked pine trees in the back don't count as spring

Jim and I have enjoyed pointing out "popcorn trees" to each other every time I drive. I feel like there are more this year than the two previous years (probably thanks to a milder winter), and that the colors are more vivid. I've always loved dogwoods and magnolias, but this year has also offered a pretty vibrant selection of magenta blossoms (wish I knew the type of trees!). It's been a cooler spring, at least lately, so I haven't gone on many walks, and it feels unsafe/silly to take pictures while driving, so I don't have tons of pictures. Hopefully that will change before the blossoms all disappear. This time of year just goes too quickly. I've been obsessed with spring for a good chunk of my life, which naturally means I wrote a bit of poetry about it as a teenager. Except . . . this might be the least poetic synopsis of spring that has ever been penned. It's hard to mix flowery language with scientific descriptions. Oh well. I t