Table of Contents

1. Change of Heart

2. The Honest Truth

3. POW in Wake Island

4. Families are Forever

5. Personal Responsibility

6. Brainstorming

7. Life is Beautiful

8. Prisoner of War: A Glimpse into an Unseen World

9. Back on Top of Things

10. Mind your own Bees Wax

11. First Time’s a Charm!

12. Secret Identity

13. President Eyring at the Vatican

14. Growing Up

15. The Scare

16. Pretzel Jell-O Salad? Is that for real?

17. The Turkey Bowl

18. Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town

19. Learning how to Learn

20. Ice Cream for Dinner?

21. Weihnachtsmarkt

22. Who I am: Conclusion for my Writing Class

Who I am: Conclusion for my Writing Class (22)

For those of you who are just starting to read my blog now, you should probably go to my two beginning posts, just so you can understand how "excited" I was for this assignment. Blogs were for people who had nothing better to do with their lives other than to write and post it for the world to see. It seemed like a "follow the crowd" sort of work and I don't really care about following the crowd as far as blogging is concerned. I have realized that a change of heart takes time, but it does come as your desire to do different and be different increases. I have written many blog posts about this already, but I love that I have been able to find myself throughout the past year and a half or so. The neat thing about this blog is that it has helped me come full circle. I have learned/am still learning how to be and express myself in my writing. My personal narrative that I wrote was the neatest. I had met this guy a few weeks ago and I had mentioned to him that I was writing this personal narrative and that it was so enjoyable to write. He mentioned he would like to read it and edit it if I would like. Honestly, I was a little hesitant because in the past, I have been self conscious of my writing. But I sent it over to him. A few hours later, he sent me back an edited version of my paper. By the end of my paper, he said he really enjoyed getting to know me and my family better just through my five page paper. I think it is neat that we get to know the people around us better without them explicitly telling who they are. Instead, the description and the way that we write really SHOWS who we are. I never thought I would live to hear myself say I will continue blogging. I have to keep blogging. It's part of who I now am. 

Weihnachtsmarkt (21)

Last year at this time, I was roaming the streets of Germany, well I guess I was stalking the streets of Germany to be more specific. (Anyone that has served a mission knows exactly what I'm talking about.) But back to Germany, the city at this time of year is absolutely breath taking. Almost everyone takes public transportation in the main cities. There is a big town square where all of the buses and trains congregate. The big shopping centers surround the center and it is always full of busy, frenzy activity and noise. When the end of November rolls around, small little wooden shops are built and old german signs are hung. It is time for the German Christmas Markets! The smell of gluwein and bratwurst fill the air. Burnt almonds being toasted and freshly dipped are set out and displayed in the little shops. German cookies and chocolates hang from the lowly dipped roofs of the shops and can easily be purchased. Christmas isn't just an event in Germany, it is a feeling. Just walking down the isles of the different displays at the Christmas market was thrilling. 
Well tonight, I got to relive that in a small way. One of my mission companions, Sister Chard, she and her family put on a Christmas Market every year in Salt Lake City. Now, it is nothing of course compared to Christmas Markets in Germany, but just the recreated feeling still made it an enjoyable night. When we first arrived, there was a marked off section that led to the stage at the front of the area. Soon after, a man came riding on his horse, he being called St. Martin. Following behind him were several groups of children carrying lanterns and singing a song hailing St. Martin through carrying their lanterns. St. Martin was known to have helped the poor without anyone knowing. After years of this secret service, a friend of his finally told the people who had been helping and serving them. As a symbol of gratitude, the people lit lanterns for the Saint, who had become their savior. After watching the parade, we visited the small collection of German markets and the observed the goods they were selling. So, once again, it wasn't necessarily the goods that were being sold that made it worth the trip, rather it was the feeling of Christmas and joy that I felt by just being there. 

Ice Cream for Dinner? (20)

Almost every year, my dad takes my mom on a special trip. We don't really care where they go. It could be California, Roadkill Inn in St. George, the beaches in Florida- really doesn't matter. What I really mean is that when they go on trips, we know that we get to make our special dinner when they are gone. Now don't get me wrong, all of us kids love our parents, but man, it is fun for both sides of the party to have a break from each other. As soon as our parents leave the house, we start making our plan. The first thing we make sure to schedule in is our ice cream for dinner. This dinner has a very specific way in which it is constructed. You first have to have your main dish, which is a large cut of perfectly baked chewy brownie. On top of that, you have a choice of 6 different types and flavors of BYU creamery ice cream. It is required that you take at least two different kinds. Next comes the fresh cookie dough that is scooped over top of the creamy goodness. Whipped cream is now actually an option because there is already so much cream already existing with the ice cream. Drizzled on top of that is chocolate and carmel syrup, with colored sprinkles for effect if so desired. That just about sums up our "calorie in a bowl" dinner. It is guaranteed to give you an increase in energy for at least thirty minutes. Now, before any of you have a heart attack just thinking about all of that sugar and fat and goodness, just remember, this happens maybe once a year. Every time we do it, we swear we will never eat ice cream again. But all is forgotten and forgiven within a 2 hour period. Oh I forgot to mention what we have for dessert......

Learning how to Learn (19)

I was still on my mission in Germany when I needed to sign up for classes. I honestly didn't want to even mess with setting up a schedule, so I called on my Sister-in-law, Annie, and asked her to help me put together a good schedule for my first semester back at college. *Notice, I didn't ask my brothers because I have a feeling they would have just filled my schedule with sports and math classes. Annie created a good mix of hard classes, required ones, and fun classes. I felt really good about my schedule, especially because I knew it would be a new environment for me and I needed to learn how to balance school with work and just life in general. Like every year, I received a Father's blessing a few days before school was to start. I remember in the blessing he emphasized that I would learn a lot of skills this semester that I would remember and continue to use for the rest of my college career. I remember I felt like the classes I would be taking would be primarily to prepare me and arm me with the tools and skills I would need.
That happened in August. Fast forward now to December. I can't even count how many essays I have written. I have written at least 2 essays per week in my classes. In about October as all of this was going on, I was getting so frustrated with my teachers for all assigning these lame essays. Well, now a few months later, (I have to be careful how I say this) I am grateful for all of the SKILLS I have used while writing essays. I guess the only way to make me grateful for that was to have me write a billion essays. Fine, I am grateful for the essays, kind of against my will. My German 330 class coupled with this Writing 150 class has helped my writing to really sky rocket. In German, I am required to write a two page paper every week with 5 sources and an annotated bibliography, as well as 1 in class essay per week. I have learned how to research and find sources quickly. I have also learned how to organize my essays well. In Writing, we have had a few big papers and then writing on the blog (which honestly isn't that terrible). With the different papers, I have learned how to use my voice in different ways. For example, I have been able to use details and sarcasm more effectively as I wrote my personal narrative. In the Research Paper, I was able to use my professional, educated voice and learned how to be clear in communicating my research.
These skills that I have learned, plus others I have not mentioned, I am excited to take and continue using in other aspects of my life and my college career.

Santa Claus is comin to Town (18)

Christmas Eve has got to be the best night of the year. Now, we are not your typical American family that just assumes that Santa brings gifts in. We don't just wait until our parents say its ok to come upstairs. Oh no! We have the real deal! We know for sure that Santa exists. In fact, we see him every year. We hide from him as he brings in the gifts. I better keep this on the "down low" so that it doesn't get out of control and every family will be trying to be like ours. Christmas Eve, after we get back from the cabin and doing the Nativity scene and Christmas games with the Hull side of the family, the first thing we check is the mailbox. One of Santa's elves hand deliver a letter to our house on Christmas Eve. It usually takes 3 or 4 times to check the mailbox before it appears. This is the one time our mom allows us to run outside without any shoes on and no coats. Usually there is snow and ice on the ground, but we could care less as we are just filled with excitement. We are not allowed to open the mailbox until we are all there. When the letter finally appears, we run triumphantly inside with the letter held high! 
The letter is ripped opened, and as always, there is chocolate smeared on the sides because Santa always spills a little hot chocolate on his letters. He usually writes and thanks us for the letters we have sent him and he tells us he has our gifts already for us, and then he tells us what time he thinks he will be at our house. Normally, he comes between 6 and 6:30 a.m. With the time in mind, we quickly start shifting things around in the family room to make our hiding spots. 

Two of us can fit under the Christmas tree, with all the presents stacked strategically around it, two kids can each hide behind a giant speaker. 4 or more of us can fit behind the couch, and then one of us is in the coat closet- prime hiding spot if I do say so myself. My dad then turns off the lights and walks in pretending to be Santa and just checks to make sure he can't see any of us. If everything looks good, then we come out of our spots and do our Christmas dance, finish our special Christmas story, and then all the kids are sent downstairs to the basement to try and sleep and keep the excitement under control. We are so wired on candy and excitement that we don't fall asleep until 2 or 3 in the morning. 5 minutes before the time that Santa says he will arrive, we can hear the clomping of my dad's feet as he runs down the stairs to wake us up. We all run, half asleep up the stairs, the adrenaline taking us. We wait in utter silence, when suddenly, the door is opened and we can hear Santa's jingle bells and hear the clomping of the boots. He runs in and immediately starts talking to himself as he brings our gifts in. "Sydney was such a good girl this year. And I've heard how she has worked so hard at soccer. She will love this new nike soccer ball." We all wait patiently as each of our names are stated and our gifts are brought in. As soon as Santa is finished, he runs out whispering," Merry Christmas to the Hull family!" and we wait a few seconds to make sure he is really gone. We then creep out of our hiding places to see the spoils. It is so fun to receive the long awaited gifts, but more fun than that is the excitement and joy we have in the hours preceding the actual event.

The Turkey Bowl (17)

I spent my whole life growing up trying to be tough. In elementary school, I wanted to be faster than everyone else. In Junior High, I wanted to work out and beat one of the football players in an arm wrestle. In High school, I was known as a beast on the soccer field. I used my strength and athleticism to define myself, to prove myself. Every thanksgiving, our neighborhood hosts a turkey bowl and I make sure to be there. The first year I played, I was about 12 and was the only girl there. From then on, a few girls joined on occasion, but regardless, I always played. I had a few good years where I made some great plays and was there able to prove myself to my brothers and the other boys in the neighborhood. I had a reputation to uphold. Well, this past year, to keep in line with tradition, I went to the turkey bowl. As I was playing, I was enjoying it, but not in the same way that I used to. I used to be super aggressive and would talk myself up. This year, I didn't really make any great plays, but that didn't bother me. I didn't realize until after the game what the difference was. The real difference was that I didn't feel like I had to prove myself to anyone. I felt confident with who I was, regardless whether I was the fastest on the field or the strongest. Now, don't get me wrong, I still love to be aggressive and I do like to smack talk- I still like to do my usual things, but now, I don't feel like my self esteem is connected to it. It was just such a freeing feeling to know I could play in the football game and not have to prove anything specific. I already know who I am and my football skills do not define me.

Pretzel Jell-O Salad? Is that for real? (16)

Apparently I am an outcast for having never heard of or eaten Pretzel Jell-O Salad. Who knew? I'm convinced that it is just an Idaho thing. I was sitting in my Writing 150 class right before Thanksgiving Break and Sister Steadman began raving about her favorite Thanksgiving Dish. She described a perfect pretzel crust- a crust that couldn't be over cooked and crunchy, otherwise it would crumble when cut. Not only that though, it couldn't be too moist, otherwise it would be a soggy mess and who wants to eat moist pretzels with cream cheese and whipped cream? The Jell-O of course has to be raspberry and in order for it to be pass the test, 1can of Kroger brand crushed pineapple must be mixed in as well. The description seemed so odd to me, I was convinced Sister Steadman was joking. Her facial expression suggested otherwise, as she looked longingly into the distance imagining what it would look and taste like the next day. My suspicions were confirmed when the most honest girl in the class, Cassidy, jumped on the band wagon, immediately concurring with Sister Steadman, only adding a few more juicy details.  I sat there in confusion as other students, one by one, all owned up to have having eaten the strange sounding dessert. I started to feel like the odd man out, the outcast, only adding to the predetermined feeling that I am no freshman. The conversation started to turn into a "let's convince Courtney that we are normal and that this dessert is something great"

Thanksgiving Dinner with my sisters and cousins
(my pretzel Jell-O slab is hiding behind the water pitcher)

I felt like 1 against a hundred, already having surrendured the fight before it started. I was only told how great it tasted and there was nothing like it and one day I would have to try it. In my mind, I thought, "Ya, we'll see about that." Fast forward to the next night, the night before Thanksgiving. My mom was talking to my sister-in-law Annie and she said," Do you want me to start blending the pretzels for the crust for the dessert?" I stopped dead in my tracks, made a 180 and headed back into the kitchen. I watched as my mom and Annie started pulling out Jell-O packets, cream cheese, pretzels, pineapple.... I knew before they could tell me. I felt a sort of weird excitement to try the new dessert, but also a feeling of defeat, as I realized this pretzel Jell-O dessert wasn't just for the people up north who didn't use cookbooks. I watched as the ingredients were transformed into a nice normal looking final product. I grabbed myself a bowl and slowly tested my taste buds against the new unfamiliar taste and texture. I was very much impressed with the mix of sweet and salty that I experienced and would not be opposed to having it again. 

The Scare (15)

Kyndal and I in our natural habitat

My sister and I shared a room ever since I can remember. Ask either of us a year ago how it was living together and we both would have said it was the worst idea my parents ever had. Ask us now and we will tell you that we are the best of friends. We have now created a deep friendship and seemed to have forgotten our misunderstandings. There is one little experience that I haven't forgotten, one that rocked our relationship. I remember going down to our room one evening and having a great idea. My sister and I loved to pull pranks on each other. Who knew tonight's would be the best one yet? I contrived a plan in which I shimmied myself into her small closet space. When she opened the closet to get her pajamas, I would jump out and scare her. 
Kyndal came down soon after I was nestled in my corner. I could hear her as she brushed her teeth and prepared for bed. The only thing she didn't do was open the closet door and put on her pajamas. I silently creeped out from my corner to look through the crack in the door to track her progress. I was surprised when I saw that she already had her pajamas on and seemed to be ready for bed. Within an instant, the lights were out and we were suddenly both encompassed in total darkness. In my mind, I was trying to decide how to best get out of the situation. I could just wait until she fell asleep... but that could take an hour or more. And I didn't have the time to just sit there. I could still find a way to scare her....no, that would just be rude at this point. So my plan, was so slowly open the closet door, hoping she wouldn't hear it. If I heard her stir, then I would reveal myself before she had the chance to react negatively. 
I waited five more minutes for safety, then I slowly slipped the door open. The door rubbed across the carpet and creaked as I moved it in the opposite direction. 
Immediately, I started whispering," Kyndal! Kyndal!" 
I slowly made my way over to her and could feel the tension in the air. I finally made it to the lamp by the edge of her bed and turned it on. I found Kyndal with the sheets tightly pulled over her small face and small figure. 
I quickly pulled them off and said," Kyndal, it's just me."
"Courtney!!!" she said in a disgusted tone of voice. 
She let out a huge sigh of relief and I could feel her fear slowly slip away into a smile and finally a forced laugh. As we both reenacted what had happened, we both realized how creepy the whole thing seemed. In my attempt to be quiet and sly, I instead had made her more nervous. How creepy to have some unknown figure walk out of your closet, calling your name, and walking toward you. We can laugh about it now, but for days and weeks after the episode, she never got into bed without checking the closet.