Books from Memory Lane

One of my favourite childhood book creators is Pat Hutchins. 

We have a well-worn copy of And the Doorbell Rang at our house and every time I read it, I find it delightful. Just last night Phoebe and I read it again and she wanted to know whether the cat had been there all along and belonged to the family, or whether it had sneaked its way inside along with some of the many visitors the family welcomed that day. So we went back and found the cat on each page—and the cat kind of has its own little story within the story, which was fun to discover together. Pat Hutchins hides so many details—and alternative storylines—in her pictures. 

We also have Where, Oh Where is Rosie's Chick (though I believe that one is in our shipment, may it arrive in one piece), which is great for teaching children to look for information in the pictures that is not shared in the text. 

"You know, Pat Hutchins wrote a book that I really like called Which Witch is Which? But I've never been able to find a copy to share with my children and now that my children are all grown up, it doesn't seem worth it to find a copy at all. But I just love that book!" I said to Phoebe as we closed And the Doorbell Rang. 

Phoebe snuggled in closer to me and looked up into my eyes. 

"I am not all grown up," she pointed out. 

And she's right! There's still time to find and share my favourite books with my kids!

Though it seems as if it's a little bit out of print, judging by these prices:

To be fair, it is possible to order a used copy for a much better. I just haven't ever done it. 

All Along...It was Hamnet

Approximately six weeks ago, Andrew ever so lightly smashed his toe (his words, not mine) and has been in abject agony ever since (my observation, not his). Last week it was so very sore and swollen and he decided to clip his toenail to see if that would release any pressure. He was unprepared when pus started streaming out from under his nail after he disturbed it. 

It felt glorious...but it was also rather concerning and finally convinced Andrew to go to the doctor—urgent care, of course, it being the weekend.

The doctor prescribed a course of antibiotics and suggested that the toenail might spontaneously fall off in the future. They also asked Andrew to come back in and have a physical exam during normal business hours (since Andrew hadn't had one since before his mission...in the year 2003). 

So Andrew went back for a physical. And that doctor looked at his toe and said that the nail probably wouldn't fall off, but recommended that he see a podiatrist anyway. 

Andrew put off that for a few days, but eventually did call to make an appointment because his toe was still dreadfully swollen and throbbing. 

He went in to the podiatrist yesterday and the podiatrist was like, "That's never going to heal. Let's rip that sucker off!"

And that's precisely what they did. 

Andrew was not thrilled. His toe still hurts. But it also now feels like it might one day get better. 

Meanwhile...

I recently finished reading Hamnet. 

Funemployed...in Greenland [Qatar]

We had been operating under the assumption that I could continue working remotely from Qatar, but unfortunately we recently learned that that will not be a possibility. Since I am moving for personal and not professional reasons (unlike Andrew, who is moving for professional reasons), UGA can't allow me to continue to work, which means that I lose my stipend and scholarship. 

Which is all...fine. 

It simply...changes...my path toward graduation a little. I'll still continue my studies, just...differently...than before. 

We're still working out precisely what changes this will entail. But it'll be fine. 

It is a little sad for me because I've liked my job, but it will also be nice to slow down a bit and focus more on being a mom and (Andrew says this part is important) having fun. 

To get a scholarship/stipend at UGA you have to work part-time (13 to 20 hours a week, depending on the contract) and you also have to take 12 credit hours (that's four classes; three classes is considered full time). Last semester, in particular, felt a little rough for me, so I think it will be nice to let that go...and then I can be more present during our homeschooling. The past couple of years I've really had to assign the kids their tasks and work on my own tasks instead of joining in on tasks with them (and honestly the latter can be much more fun—and sometimes effective—for all of us). 

So that will be nice. 

But Andrew also insists that I become like the fancy housewives from, like, a Jane Austen novel and just...frolic about the town...and have mid-afternoon teas...and whatever. 

He insists that it's funemployment rather than unemployment. 

A birthday and a swim meet

This morning Andrew took the first set of kids (A and Z) to swimming and then came home so he could be here when our moving pods were delivered. I was getting the second set of kids (B and P) ready for swimming when Andrew came home—and it was a good thing he came home when he did because the pods were delivered half an hour earlier than what they stated our expected delivery window to be!

Phoebe was very excited to get to watch the fork lift at work while I braided her hair. 

I took the second set of kids (B and P) to swimming and brought home our two middle swimmers (A and P). Then I went to the dentist and Miriam went back to the pool to pick up the remaining children (Z and B). 

So it was a bit of a swimming circus in the morning.

And I had to get some metal "buttons" for my particularly stubborn teeth...and having braces makes me feel a little bit grumpy. Honestly, we joke about Miriam sometimes because whenever she comes home from getting her braces tightened she needs, like, a three-hour nap to kind of reboot because it just makes her so grumpy. And I...kind of understand that...because...same.

And there are always so many surprises. Like, you might just think you're going in for an ordinary check up and they're like, "Oh, while we have you, we're just going to put a power chain on..." (or whatever).

And, like, sometimes I'm not emotionally prepared for a power chain (or whatever), okay?

So today I was grumpy that I had to get metal attachments (so much for the invisi- part of Invisalign) and elastics. Especially because my Original Plan was to work through twenty sets of trays over the course of forty weeks. That still sounded long to me, but I was like, "Fine. This will be worth it."

Folks, it has been 585 days since I had my braces put on! 

There are only 280 days in 40 weeks. I have been in braces for more than 83 weeks now. I'm so over this whole process. 

I readily admit that I really do have a very stubborn tooth that still needs some fixing, so it's not like it's the dentist's fault. But I still feel a little grumpy about it. 

Couple with that has just been some stress of trying to figure out what to do about my job now that we're moving overseas...and whether and how to continue working...and how to figure out my course schedule and what kind of tuition I will be paying (which depends a bit on what I figure out about my job). And then some things are happening that make me wonder if I even want to continue in that position and what certain things like "free speech" even mean these days when everything feels so stifling. 

Lucky for me there was cake and ice cream when I got home from the dentist. And then I got to have a nap (to try to get over my grumpiness and my cold and have enough energy to make it through the evening's swim meet), which was lovely. 

A tribute to me because it's almost my birthday!

I rather enjoy when things come full circle.

My niece Rosie was born on a chilly January morning when I was 11 years old. That summer, soon after I turned 12, our family took a trip down to Utah (from Alberta, where we were currently living) and left me with my sister Kelli to be a mother's helper for a week or two.

Schönbrunn in the morning and Vienna at night (and the trip home)

On Tuesday morning (May 12), Patrick took me out to visit Schönbrunn Palace, the Habsburg family's summer residence (in view of their winter residence, the Hofburg). It is large (but only about a third of the size of Versailles). We didn't get tickets to any of the exclusive tours, but the grounds are free to wander through—we even saw a handful of joggers enjoying the paths. 

Eurovision!

When we found out that we'd be in Vienna for Eurovision we jumped through all the necessary hoops to get tickets. We had to apply to get in the lottery to have the chance to buy tickets at all? Something like that. All I know is that Patrick, Josie, and I all got through the first lottery round (Hadis did not) and then Patrick and I managed to buy a set of four tickets (the maximum number you could buy) while Josie did not. So Patrick sold/transferred his tickets to some friends and we used the tickets that I got. 

All of our tickets were really bad, but not really, really bad, so we felt okay about them. 

It helped (or hurt?) that they were only 15 euro each. 

We attended on Tuesday afternoon. It was cold and drizzly. 

The security for the event was...significant. Each ticket had to be designated for one person and one person only, and the name on the ticket had to match the name on whatever government ID you chose to present to prove your identity. We had to walk through metal detectors and get a pat down. We were allowed to bring only a few things that could fit in our pockets (no bags of any sort were allowed). We had to check our jackets at the counter. People who had brought umbrellas had to throw them away. 

It was pretty intense (but that's the kind of world we live in). 

Here we are, having all found our seats:

Vienna's First District (and Better than an Iranian Restaurant)

Patrick had a meeting with his advisor Monday afternoon, so we went into Vienna's First District in the morning. This worked out well because Josie and I still had valid 24-hour passes in the morning and because a tremendous thunderstorm rolled in later in the afternoon (completely shutting down all Eurovision activities for the evening). 

Speaking of which, who's got two thumbs and accidentally planned a trip to Vienna during Eurovision and over Mother's Day? 

It's me! 

Really Josie and I were going off of cheap airfare, which meant that we had to fly as close to the end of the semester as possible, which meant that I flew out the day after my semester ended. That sounded good in theory as well...when we initially made these plans. It felt a little less good when I was in the middle of finishing up all my final projects. 

And we actually managed to get tickets to see Eurovision live (well, a rehearsal anyway) so that's today's activities. 

Anyway, the first district, or the Innere Stadt is the city centre, where all the administrative buildings and things are...and it's also where a big Eurovision village is set up, where the opening ceremonies were on Sunday, and...let's just say it's been bustling!

Andrew and I visited downtown Vienna in April of 2006 while on a 14-hour layover on our way to spend our summer in Jordan (also to secure cheap tickets, I'm sure). I only remembered that we'd shared some fries (and didn't understand how to validate our transport tickets), but apparently we had pizza and ice cream as well (good for us). That is to say, it's been a hot minute since I've been here (20 years, to be precise). A few things were familiar to me, but I was glad to have a knowledgable guide in Patrick. 

I believe Patrick lives in the sixteenth district, which is actually much closer to the first district than you might assume—only the eighth district separates it from the first district. We left his apartment in the morning when Hadis needed to leave for work since we were all going the same direction.

Here's one of his streets with gardens filled with allium blossoms: 

Vienna Central Cemetery

On Sunday we went to Vienna's Central Cemetery, which was not very central according to Vienna residents in 1863 when the cemetery was established. In fact, it was so far removed from city life that hardly anyone cared to visit the graveyard at all...until city authorities began Ehrengräber (honorary graves) and even exhumed and reinterred famous people who died before the cemetery's opening (such as Beethoven and Schubert). 

See—here's Beethoven (who died in 1827)...

Salzburg: The End (and an Iranian restaurant)

We more or less just slept in on Saturday morning. We didn't have to check out of the hotel until 11:00  am, our train wasn't until 1:11 pm, and we didn't have much else on our Salzburg to-do list. It was nice to be unhurried in the morning. 

We went to the Billa (grocery store) to get some breakfast pastries and then went for a walk to St. Sebastian's Cemetery, which was immediately so peaceful compared to the street outside. 

There are some Mozarts buried here (but not the Mozart, who got a pauper's funeral in Vienna).

Salzburg: Hohensalzburg Fortress and more

We made our way up to the Petersfriedhof (cemetery) at the base of Festungsberg and debated whether and how we wanted to get up to Hohensalzburg Fortress. 

Here you can see part of the Salzburg Cathedral at the end of the street: 

Vanil (no-laa)

Vanilla is a word that will always make me a little bit angry. 

When I was in grade five we had individualized spelling lists (I've told this story before) of misspelled words that were pulled from our writing. I tended to write a lot and also wasn't afraid to use words that I wasn't quite sure of the spelling for, so I had some rather tricky words on my spelling list. Or perhaps I simply felt the words were tricky because they were words that I clearly already found to be tricky (having misspelled them in the first place).

I had this one friend who would purposely write as little as possible and very slowly and carefully so as to select only the words which she knew she knew how to spell. In that way she avoided spelling tests in the first place. 

Clever? Perhaps. 

But I couldn't write that way. I wrote furiously, passionately, filling page after page with copious script, using the most lavish words I could think of. I wrote some very purple passages, I'm sure, and I had a spelling list as extensive as my little vocabulary could muster. 

I took risks. I spelled a lot of things wrong. 

Where my friend would write "yummy" I would try out "delicious" or "scrumptious" and...I'd probably leave out an i or something. Onto the list it would go! 

And that's fine. 

I just then had to learn how to spell those words, which, again, was fine. It's not like it's outlandish to have to learn how to properly spell scrumptious. I was fine. 

But I also was forever telling stories about words. 

Graduate Awards and Recognitions Event

 

This past December I was awarded the Carol J. Fisher Award for Excellence in Research (in memory of Hugh Agee) and today was our awards banquet so I got to receive the award there. I'm two years into this program now, which means I've spent about five years in the department as a graduate student...with a few more years to go before I'm finished!

Stress basket

Before we got married, my mother warned Andrew that I was, and I quote, a "stress basket," and that he'd have to handle me with care at certain times (because I was a "little ball of nerves" or something like that).

I was like, "I don't think so. I'm perfectly chill."

My mom just rolled her eyes. 

Andrew assured her he could handle it me.

First of all, my mom was right (of course) and second, Andrew's been great. 

He quickly learned how to notice when I'm feeling overwhelmed and either helps me work through things or simply tucks me in for a nap (I get very tired when I'm stressed out).

It could be said that I'm stressed out now. 

I have so many final projects due and life is going about a million miles an hour and my brain is...well...

Pranks

Recently I decided to part with some lovely gooseneck chairs that Reid let me take when we moved away from Spanish Fork, but which I think Karen actually claimed when Reid's office building went 100% remote. We've had a good run with them, but it was time to let them go. 

Part of the issue is that although I think they're great chairs, we've never quite had a place for them in this house. They've been "floating" chairs, roving from this room to that, with no permanent location to call home. 

And that's on me, I'm sure. 

If I was better at decorating things might have ended better between us. 

Anyway, in December we moved one of these chairs into Andrew's office to make space for the Christmas tree. So it just awkwardly sat in a corner of Andrew's office...between his desk and his bookshelf...all through Christmas break and then all through this semester as well. We never put it back where it had been before. And it became one of my frequent haunts.

More toilet paper stories

I recently finished off a roll of toilet paper and—as a responsible toilet paper user—I went to replace the roll. Alas, there was no more toilet paper under the sink, so I went to the kids' bathroom and took a roll from under their sink and made a mental note to grab a pack of toilet paper from the basement and bring it up to our bathroom the next time I went downstairs. 

I managed to make the trip a little later in the day. I distinctly remember going downstairs and grabbing a pack of toilet paper (making another mental note about how much toilet paper was left in the basement). I took the toilet paper with me on a few errands on my way upstairs and then...

Who really knows?

It's anyone's guess, really. 

You know when your brain is simply...overloaded...with concerns...and there's absolutely zero room for a stray thought in there? That's about the point where I am currently (so I should probably stop making mental notes—I'm not positive they're being stored anywhere at the moment). My mind is simply maxed out. And that's okay. 

But the toilet paper didn't ever end up under the bathroom sink, which is unfortunate because when it was time to replace the toilet paper roll again...there was still no toilet paper under the sink. 

Now, Cottenelle would have us believe that "an average family of four can finish a regular roll (of 150 sheets) in about a day. They’ll go through an estimated 7 rolls per week, or 28 rolls a month," but that sounds a little high to me so perhaps we're conservative toilet paper users. Still, it didn't feel like it had been that long since I'd last changed the toilet paper roll and I was somehow shocked to find that there was still no toilet paper under the sink.

Because I'd gone downstairs to get some, see?

I distinctly remembered doing this...and then carrying it around the house for a while...but if it wasn't under my bathroom sink and it wasn't under the kids' bathroom sink and it wasn't under the hallway bathroom sink...where, precisely, did I put it?! 

Obviously not in any logical spot. 

Huh. 

Nancy's Talk: Of Wells and Arks

Here is the talk that I gave in sacrament meeting:

Of Wells and Arks: Doing the Next and Necessary Thing

Since I’m speaking first, I’ll take a few minutes to introduce our family. We moved here in July of 2019, so we’re coming up on seven full years here, which is the longest that I have ever lived anywhere in my entire life—and by extension it’s also the longest my children have lived anywhere. Although I’m sure many of our children—particularly our youngest few—feel as if we’ve been here a lifetime, I don’t actually feel like we’ve been here very long at all. I’ve just never felt very settled here. Perhaps I don’t know how to settle. I don’t know…

But, here we are! We’re the Heisses. We have six kids. Our oldest Rachel is a freshman at BYU. Then there’s Miriam, who you hear at the organ each Sunday. Next is Benjamin, who made a goal this year to bake bread whenever he’s assigned to bring bread for the sacrament. Zoë is enjoying her last year of primary; she’s very excited to enter the Young Women program next year. Alexander was baptized this past November. And Phoebe is four and…we just…celebrate…that we’ve been able to get her to attend her own class. She’s very clingy. 

She describes herself as “snuggly,” but she’s clingy. 

Math whiz?

We were talking about how to calculate one's h-index the other day in my post qual class—ironic because the very idea of measuring and tracking one's productivity in that manner seems rather against everything poststructuralism stands for. But, nonetheless, that's what we were talking about. 

The h-index was imagined into existence by Jorge Hirsch in 2005 and it claims to be a measure—or somehow representative—of productivity. Calculating one's h-index is pretty simple, at least in my opinion. You simply find the highest number of papers that have been cited that same number of times. And that's your h-index. 

So, for example, I have two published articles, one of which has been cited twice. My h-index is, therefore, 1 because one article has been cited at least one time. 

Andrew has an h-index of 16, which means sixteen of his articles have been cited at least sixteen times. 

Michel Foucault has an h-index of 309. That mean 309 of his articles have been cited at least 309 times. 

My classmates seemed baffled by this idea, however, so I explained it quickly to them and they got it and then someone asked, "Are you some kind of math whiz?"

Which...if you know me...is a very funny question because a math whiz I am not. 

I have never once claimed math as a strong suit. Not once.

In elementary school, I completed one timed multiplication quiz...ever... So I learned early that I was not a whiz when it came to math. I was a math...opposite of whiz...

A math slug? 

I will brag that I scored in the 95th percentile on the GRE...on the verbal reasoning section.

On the quantitative section?

Grown ups come back

After a long week of Daddy being away, we sure are happy to have him home again! Here are the kids eating some wafer cookies from Thailand that Andrew brought back to share with the kids:

Although Andrew has never been to Thailand, he has partied with people who have. 

Thus the cookies.

Guest Lecture and Home Church

This morning Andrew braved the "treacherous" road conditions to drive me to Trinity Presbyterian Church in Atlanta. I'm sure the roads were icy somewhere, but I think we saw two little patches of ice the whole way, so we made it to our destination just fine. 

I was so nervous about delivering this lecture, but Andrew reminded me that my audience was there not to tear apart my arguments but to take something away from what I said. They were there to listen and learn, not judge.