Red and Green . . . and Orange

For me, Christmas is full of red and green . . . and orange.

Every year at the Hancock household, as we gather around the tree on the chilly (and hopefully white) Christmas morning, each kid and son-in-law gets a stocking. The stocking is overflowing with little, individually wrapped presents whose contents are usually packs of gum.

We pull each present out, one by one, until we reach the bottom. There, in the toe of the stocking, was an orange. I don't think I actually ever ate the orange until I was in college when I realized food was expensive and vitamin C helps with finals. I think we even threw the oranges at each other one year or tried to juggle with them. Either way, the orange tradition was fun as I was growing up.

With finals looming on the impending horizon, it's hard to properly look forward to Christmas and oranges. But as I sit here at work and slowly peel back the leathery skin of my orange, juice and the sweet smell of Christmas spurts out, and I can't help but drift down a snow-laced memory lane.

And as much as I don't want to think about Christmas right now (yes, I'm one of those people who bans Christmas songs until after Thanksgiving), I'm reminded of those memories.

Christmas, please come faster!

When Campus is Out to Get You

Who knew that walking on campus could be such as adventure.

Since coming to BYU, I've had a number of quirky adventures, and many of them happened as I was walking on campus. Some were fun like, seeing a flash mob break into a thrilling dance in the JFSB courtyard during Halloween, but some hurt and were quite embarrasing.

When I was a freshman living in Helaman Halls, we had to walk up the same hill to get on campus (I don't know why they decided to build campus on a hill). Once, I was practically running up the hill to get to class on time because I had spent too much time filling myself with bacon at the Cannon Center. Out of nowhere, a bird flew straight for my head! Naturally, I screamed as I ducked and covered. Everyone else walking up the hill just stared. Now I keep a close eye on those feathered dive bombers as they swoop through campus.

Other animals you have to watch out for that are frequently found on campus are deer. They usually gather at the woody patches by the RB, but I saw one once on the other side of campus as I was walking home. As I watched it, it suddenly ran at me! I jumped out of the way and watched as it disappeared on campus. Maybe it was late for class?

I don't know what it is with animals on campus, but I've also had problems with the insects. Bees try to steal my lunch as I try to enjoy a bit of sun during lunch break and make me look silly as I scamper around, trying to dodge them while snagging my lunch back at the same time. My most recent insect encounter was with a grasshopper. Ugh, it was big and gross! I spotted it as I was walking to class and was careful to step over it so I didn't squish it. And how did it thank me? It hopped onto my leg! I shook my leg like a dog coming out of a bath, drawing quite a few strange looks from other students. Good thing most people on campus probably think I'm my twin sister, Amber.

As for inanimate objects, I've been hit by doors and almost run over by cars who are always driving on campus right behind you until you step aside to let them pass. Once when I was walking to the RB, an acorn fell from the tree and hit me on the head. Sadly, that bonk didn't give me any revolutionary ideas like gravity.

And now that it's winter, we'll all have to watch out for the added dangers of falling icicles and sneaky ice that waits until you're not looking to pull your feet out from under you. So watch out BYU BYU students: campus is out to get you.

My Fishy Fear

There are a lot of things in this world that people are afraid of: heights, flying, small spaces, and death.

Not me. My fear is fish.

Sorry, Bruce. Fish are not friends; they are, in fact, food.

My fear of fish can be traced back to when I was little. My dad used to take us girls to Free Fishing Day, a day where a bunch of fish were dumped into a little lake and kids could go fishing for free.

One fateful day, we went to take advantage of Free Fishing Day. It was pretty fun! Casting has always been my favorite part of fishing. Of course I wanted to catch a fish (especially if my sisters had already caught some), but sometimes casting and reeling in was enough to entertain me.

For the umpteenth time, I went through the motions of casting and reeling in. Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug at the end of my line. My hearth jumped into my throat, and then I got really excited. I got one! I thought.

I furiously reeled in my line, but found I had to struggle more than usual. My little brow furrowed as I struggled to get that fish to shore.

My parents finally noticed my struggling and chose to grab the video camera instead of helping me. At this point, I was panicking. This fish is going to drag me into the lake and eat me for breakfast! I'm too young to die! I could just read the newspaper headlines now: "Girl Gobbled by Giant Guppy" (my fish name vocabulary was really small).

The fish turned out to be an enormous carp, the biggest fish I have ever caught, and probably the biggest fish caught that day. It's a curse to be good at something you hate.

Since then, the scaly, slimy, wiggly fish have crept into my worst nightmares. It's even gotten to the point where I don't like swimming in open water for fear of what's under the surface nibbling my toes.

Let's just say I don't ever want to find Nemo. Or Dory. Or any fish. Ever.

True Blue, Through and Through

No, the title isn't referring to my love and loyalty to BYU (although, now that we're talking about it, go Cougars!).

The title comes from a story of one of the prophets of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Joseph F. Smith. When he was nineteen, he was returning home from his mission when a wagonload of drunk men came up to him, cursing the Mormons. One of them said, "Are you a Mormon?" Joseph was scared, but his reply was anything but. "Yes siree," he said. "Dyed in the wool; true blue, through and through." His answer shocked the men. The man who had addressed him even shook his hand, saying, "I am glad to see a fellow stand for his convictions." Then the men left.

Isn't this an amazing story? Joseph's reaction is such an inspiration. He had so much courage to stand for what he believed even in the face of certain danger.

That same danger is still in the world today. It may not be a wagonload of drunk men, but there are things that challenge what we believe. This happens all the time, but what really matters is how we react to the challenge. Will we let the challenges make us doubt what we know to be true? I hope not.

I hope to always be like Joseph F. Smith. I know where I stand in my beliefs, and I don't plan on ever budging.

I am a Mormon, dyed in the wool; true blue, through and through.

I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only true church on the earth.

I know that the gospel was restored by Joseph Smith, a true prophet of God, and that The Book of Mormon is filled with answers to our questions and knowledge that will help us be happy and get through the hard times.

I know that the current prophet today is Tomas S. Monson. He and the apostles are true messengers of God. If we listen to what they say, we will hear what the Lord wants us to do.

I know that because of the blessings of the temple I can be with my family forever and that families start with the marriage of husband and wife (see The Family: A Proclamation to the World).

I know that the power of the priesthood is real. I'm so happy I have a husband who honors his priesthood and is worthy so that he might bless me and others.

I know that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. He died so that we might return to our Heavenly Father. He suffered for our sins so that we might be forgiven. His hands are always stretched out; all we have to do is reach out and He'll guide and direct us to where we need to be.

I know who I am, where I came from, and where I'm going. I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father and Mother who love me. I lived before in the premortal world, and I am here to be tested. I am doing my best to follow the commandments and be like Christ so that I might return to heaven to live forever.

I know that paying tithing brings many blessings, not just to those that it helps but also to me.

I know that I am truly happy because of the gospel.

To learn more about Mormons, click on my link on the right or visit

mormon.org. 

To read The Book of Mormon, visit lds.org

Inside the House of God

Until I went away to college, I lived in Riverdale. No, not Rivendale (which is what Lord of the Ring nerds on campus always think I say when I say that's where I'm from); Riverdale. Riverdale is a small city that meshes into Ogden.

It was always a blessing to live just about ten minutes away from the Ogden Temple. I remember going on a lot of youth activities to go do baptisms in the temple and walk its grounds, singing "I Love to See the Temple" in my head and promising that I'd "go inside someday" to make sacred covenants with God and to be married for time and all eternity (check!).

Last Saturday, I got to go inside the temple for another reason. For the past while, the Ogden Temple has been undergoing extensive renovations and reconstruction. Finally, it was finished and opened to the public. I had the wonderful opportunity to go with my family and friends to the open house. 

The temple was beautiful! I mean, all LDS temples are beautiful in their own way, but seeing this temple where the old one used to sit was just amazing. It was obvious that a lot of thought and skill went into the building of the temple with all the beautiful marble and stained glass and woodwork.

The transformation is unbelievable!

I've been to several open houses now, and I love going to them. I love seeing people (and not just Mormons) walking through the temple and going into rooms where we as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints perform sacred ordinances. There is a font for doing baptisms for the dead, rooms to perform marriages for time and all eternity (like where my marriage to my husband took place), rooms for sealings for the dead, just to name a few. As you can see, a lot of work is done in the temple.

As we walked through the temple during the tour at the open house, I could definitely feel the Spirit. It was a peaceful and happy feeling. I knew that what would happen in those temple rooms after the dedication would bring people true happiness. And if it felt that good just at the open house, imagine how much better and stronger that feeling will get after the temple is dedicated. That feeling is one of the reasons I like going to the temple. I like being able to shut out the world (even just for a couple of hours) and focus on my spirit and Jesus Christ. I feel safe and happy in the temple, and I feel good that I'm able to do work that will bless others.

I know that temples are essential, and I know that the purpose of the work done inside of them is to bring people (both living and dead) the opportunity for happiness. The temple brings me so much happiness. I know that my family can be together forever because of the blessings that a temple marriage brings. I'm especially grateful for temples now that I'm married because I know that my husband is mine forever. I never have to leave him.

If you haven't been to the open house, go! It is a beautiful experience. If you want to know more about Latter-day Saint temples, visit here or here.

My eternal family (plus two sisters who couldn't be there in person)

My Little, Cute Obsession

It's so fluffy, I'm going to die!

But really, I seem to like small creatures way more than I should.

Like just this weekend I saw some baby goats who were, I kid you not, just four weeks old! Cutest. Things. Ever. They'd prance around and just bounce back when a bigger goat pushed them around. I really wanted to hop the fence that divided me from their cuteness and scoop one up.

Likewise, every day walking to work, I pass the BYU duck pond. I can hear the high-pitched quacking from the wee ducklings before I see them. I try to feed them bread, but the larger, less-cute ducks steal the bits of bread. Rude. I think my husband can fit at least three of those ducklings in his hand. So adorable! I just want to take an armful of them back home.

When it comes to cute things, I just can't help it—googly eyes; fur soft as silk; precious noses; tiny, pudgy fingers and toes. . . .

Ok fine, I have an obsession with little, cute things. Every time I see something cute (whether it be a chubby baby, fluffy puppy, or waddling duckling), all I want to do is grab it and hug it. They are so dang cute—it drives me crazy! I even had a hard time looking for pictures to put with this blog post because I couldn't stand all those images of cute creatures.

Thankfully, it seems I'm not the only poor soul who experiences this. One study explores the explanation that maybe seeing something cute brings out a certain aggression in us that makes us want to squeeze something, preferably the cute thing we are fawning over.

One suggestion for this phenomenon of aggression is that we want to take care of that cute animal or baby that we see, and if it's a photograph, we get frustrated because we can't reach it or, in real life, we can't just go around squeezing other people's babies and puppies. That frustration could turn into aggression.

Whatever you call it—obsession, aggression, frustration—cute things are cute, and I just want to squeeze them all. And there's nothing more squeezable than a teacup pig with an ice cream cone.

Couldn't you just eat him up?

My Dad is . . .

. . . well, this picture about sums it up.

Clearly, my dad is a fun guy to be around. His jokes, though goofy at times, still manage to make us smile and laugh.

I know it's a day late, but I definitely want to give a shoutout to my amazing dad.

One of my dad's best qualities is how thoughtful and kind he is to everyone. At church, he's always the guy who stays after the meetings to make sure all the chairs get put away. He'll escort little old ladies from their cars, open doors for them, and help them up and down stairs. My dad goes out of his way to make sure people have what they need and especially loves doing secret service like shoveling the neighborhood walks after a snowstorm. Once he even sprained his ankle while we were swimming because he wanted to teach his girls how to do a cannonball (we learned not to do one in the shallow end).

Another fun quality of my dad's is that he loves to tease people, especially his girls. I'm pretty sure it's one of his favorite things to do. Teasing us is one way that he shows that he loves us. He teases us about silly things, like how he tells Amber and me that when we were little baby twins, he could fit one of us in each hand (true) and juggle us (not true). 

One of my favorite things to do with my dad is to go on camping trips. He always makes sure it's a fun time and puts a lot of work into making sure everyone is having fun. My dad even baits our hooks for us when we go fishing and doesn't make me touch the fish once I catch them (yeah, I have this weird fear of fish). 

I am so happy I got to spend Fathers' Day with my wonderful dad! Of course, it wouldn't be a family get-together without a funny story coming from it. So my dad loves his sweets, and for Fathers' Day my mom made Reese's trifle. His portion was fairly big, but then my mom took this out of the fridge saying, "And here's my trifle!"

I don't know how he managed to survive with five girls in the house with dogs as the only males besides himself. But I do know that I have the best dad, and I love him very much.