Names--Grandma

Names are powerful.
Where I come from, natural vegetation is abundant. We've got a million different trees, from A-Y (alder to yellow cedar.)We've got berries galore. There are grasses and bushes and mosses everywhere.
Names are important.
Here's an example with two of the SE plants that I see every summer.
Skunk cabbage.

You know what I'm talking about. Its big, lettuce-like leaves grow in every wet, swampy place in SE (and that just about describes SE, by the way.) It earns its name by smelling skunky. Well, that's what they say. I think it's fine.
If you didn't know this, you'd still guess that it stinks, just because of its name. I mean, it's not at all like the...

Chocolate lily.
Doesn't that just sound delicious? Maybe it could be my wedding flower...
NOT!
Chocolate lilies sound pretty and look pretty, but they definitely don't smell pretty. To quote Wikipedia:
"It is also sometimes known as skunk lily, dirty diaper and outhouse lily because of the flower's horrible smell."

I know this is pretty random, but it makes sense in my head. Let's not talk about flowers. Let's talk about the name
Welch.
Welch girls have a lot to live up to. Kind, smart, a little goofy/funny, quick-witted, graceful, lady-like, and ever-loving. That's what we're going for.
I'm a Welch girl. This name ties me to my mom's side. It's the name I claim with my cousins whenever we're together. Not because it's better than our other names. Just because it ties us to our grandparents.

My grandma, (who wasn't a Welch until she got married) is the best of the Welch girls. Always loving. Always faithful. Always positive. And pretty darn funny, to boot.

She passed away last Thursday. I miss her like crazy.

But I'm also really thankful, because I know there's something binding me to her that's stronger than just our Welch girl status. Sometime down the road into forever, I know I'll see her again.

Some names are eternal. My family's is one of them.

-Erika

And if you'd like to see some beautiful pictures of my Grandma Welch, click on this and this. My cousin Jamie is a long-time blogger and wrote some beautiful things about Grandma.

Direction

Oh, sometimes I really wish I had my ducks all in a row before doing something as un-rowing as getting married. Really, the audacity of me to get engaged when I don't have a major!

I've been stressed over this for awhile: ever since I decided at the start of my 3rd semester that Spanish was not the major for me after all. Now, only half a semester away from my junior year, I still have no idea what I want to do. I want to take more exploratory classes, but chances are that most of them won't get me where I want to go. And doesn't it seem that the 100 level classes are oftentimes either easy (more of a test of attendance) or ridiculously hard (to weed out the weak?)

Here's what I like:
Dance
Children
Food
Writing
Teaching
the Outdoors

So...dance teacher? Nutritionist? Middle school English teacher? Hermit living in the mountains?

I want a sense of direction here!

And soon would be nice, because how can I plan a wedding when I'm thinking about which classes I'll take next semester?

Excuse Story

Hey All!
It feels like it's been awhile, probably more for me than for you. Sorry! I have some awesome stories to tell, but tonight's not the night. Even though I know you're still dying to know the engagement story, see the ring, and read about ALL the wedding plans. And Holy Cow, there are a lot!
Right now, though it's bed time. But wait, it's only just past 10!
Here's the quick story:

I got a job doing this:


So I can get this:

(Quick wedding detail: We're driving through Canada--Alberta and BC--on our honeymoon, which is why I picked a Canadian penny...)


So I feel less of this:


So I don't turn into this:


Anyway, that's why I'm going to go do this now:

Good night!

The Writing Girls

A week or two ago I was telling my best friend about her dream man. He's quite a catch, you see. This man loves poetry, only drinks non-alcoholic beer, and is up-to-date on world and national affairs. This is essential because she dislikes reading about the news; she'd rather have him explain it to her.

I don't know these things about Caitlin because we've been friends since sixth grade. I know them because in sixth grade, the best teacher I've ever had pulled a handful of girls aside and told us there was something special about our writing. We became a club of sorts: The Writing Girls (abbreviated to TWGs, or twigs.) We bonded over our stories. Our stories and the friendships that grew from them made us branch out to the magical, cozy land of coffee shops and giant pillows.

I don't remember all of the meetings, nor the stories. But some tidbits, like Caitlin's poem, are rediscovered on occasion.

One girl wrote about giving her dog a bath.
One girl always related her pieces to horses. ALWAYS.
One, while writing about some kind of orange bread (I think), mentioned acne scars on the narrator's back.

Some poetry was light and cute. Some of it was a little heavier. When I think of how easy we had it as sixth-graders, I remind myself of the harder stuff. We weren't entirely oblivious, but thank heaven we weren't as grown-up as we thought we were.

This post is mainly for our teacher. She took time and energy out of her life to help us create something special. I think it's funny that she said I might have forgotten her.

I didn't.

So, if you read this blog, and I'm hoping you will, let me know. I think the TWGs have all wanted to get together over coffee and hot cocoa again, but that's a little hard. If there's any other way we can catch up, let me know.
And thank you.

Reason #6,000,001

Love. My. Boy.
Okay, maybe my man. It's funny thinking of him as a man, not because he isn't, (because he totally is), but because I'm marrying this Man, and to marry this Man, I must be a Woman. As far as gender goes, of course I'm a woman. As far as maturity, I'm not so sure.

But I digress.

I love Russell Youngberg for around 6,000,000+ reasons. But the one I'm telling you about:

(See Below Post)

He got me one! He got me the grater!

At Sunday dinner one of Russell's cousins saw my obsession and said it was just an old fashioned food processor. I had never thought of it that way...I guess it is. BUT it's reliable. And perfect.

I love Russell. And I love my new grater. AHHHHHHHHH!!!! Yaaaayyyyy!!!!!