Don't get me wrong. As much as I love living the campus life at C of I, being back home in Meridian for the past few months has been quite the delightful break. No early morning classes to worry about, no homework, being able to see my family every day--these are perks I wasn't able to get all the time during my freshman year. And with the start of classes looming over us in just a few more weeks, I figure now's as good a time as any to count my home life blessings.
So, without further ado, here are my Top 5 Best Things About Being Home This Summer.
Ikea: it’s the ultimate labyrinth of our time, minus the Minotaur. Boise may not be big enough to merit its own Ikea, but it’s an easy, not too-long drive from Salt Lake City, so my parents and I went down for the weekend and stayed in nearby Park City. I happily spent a few hours lost in the giant maze on a quest to equip my dorm room with inexpensive Swedish goods. One rug, lamp, mirror, pot, pan, collider, spoon, curtain rod, and curtain set later, my parents and I emerged relatively unscathed.
This week has seemed long and kind of uneventful. In reality, plenty of things have happened: I went to the dentist, AND the gym. My sister came home for a few days, but she was so busy that I barely saw her. I played some ultimate frisbee, volleyball, and sticky-noted my friend’s car. I babysat a girl who pulled a tooth out and promptly put every white towel in the house into her mouth to soak up the blood. I did some cleaning, some reading, watched the Olympics.
So I have already mentioned that I grow stuff, yet I have never proven it. Partially because the good folks at Bon Apetit, our cafeteria's caterers, buy all the stuff, before I can even take pictures.
However, a day or two ago, I went around campus, armed with these goods, on a wheelbarrow, and sold this stuff to the staff at the College. It was a sight to see little old me in my welders goggles pusing a wheelbarrow loaded with vegetables which had been picked less then half an hour before being sold.
One of the constant things I've found myself pondering across college life is the question of "home": how we create it, and where we find it. Over the past week, I've been lending my sunburned body to both friends and family to the familiar game of hauling boxes, hurdling truck-beds, and the highs-and-lows of jamming furniture inside unyielding doorframes. I like offering to help; you get to share in some of the satisfaction that arises from structuring a place where people live.
A few days ago, I made my first trip back to C of I's campus since leaving last year's Baccalaureate ceremony. I had received a couple of e-mails earlier in the week that had encouraged me to stop by Caldwell, and funnily enough, they both involved receiving stuff I had been expecting for a while. With the promise of an old music binder and a new camera waiting for me, I made the half hour trek from Meridian to the college, which happened to be much more quiet since my last visit.
At 10:08 on the morning of August 6th I recieved a text message...which took a not-so-close second to my pillow as I pressed "Ignore" and rolled back into my pillow for another hour or so of sleep on my day off.
Summer means three things to many an American teenager: a summer job, swimming, and snow cones. My summer has all three of those things wrapped in one—I’ve spent part of my time working at Borah Pool, a public swimming pool that just happens to have an adjacent snow cone shack.