Go East, Pioneer!

Why is it that I am always moving the warmest month of the year?  When I moved back to Utah and into an apartment with a boyfriend, it was over the 4th of July.  I again chose that lovely weekend when I moved into my house two years ago.  This year, I'm packing up over the Days of '47 weekend.  Oh yes, it is the annual State holiday of handcarts and bonnets.  As I sit among my cardboard jungle, the TV is on with the parade in the background.

People camp out for days just to reserve a good spot on the parade route.  I just heard our governor say something about how this parade celebrates our diversity and spirit.  Diversity?  Everyone looks white to me.  There are tons of missionaries on the floats and floats made by the Mormons at their local ward or stake center (aka their church).  The floats look swallowed whole by the large wide streets that Brigham Young created so that the wagons could do a U turn without a problem.  Spirit?  The Church headquarters actually gives money to the stake centers for costs of creating the floats in the religious themes and then "calls" their followers to make the floats.  Only in Utah.  Ah, side thought:  how did the tradition of teenage girls twirling recreations of rifles in a marching band get started? 

I'm also on call this morning.  I couldn't get anyone to take the shift.  I joked that we would have an onslaught of handcart traumas.  Probably more heat exhaustion or fireworks injuries, but that will be later in the evening.  Perhaps I might land a teen girl getting hit in the head by one of those wooden rifles as well with a twirl gone bad.

Sorting out what to take to Indy and what to keep in storage in Utah has been a process.  Whenever I have doubt I think of my fiancé and his tendency to hang on to everything.  It makes it a very easy decision to get rid of things.  However when I think of the spatial disparity, I get nervous.  I have a lot more boxes going vs. staying.  Hard to think how this is all going to play out when I get there with the back room still filled with his stuff.As I watch the floats sponsored by a religious conglomerate, recreations of handcarts, local high school marching bands, themes of Jell-O, covered wagons, large families created in the name of God, hardships by the pioneers, bees, crickets, sweets (yes, we love our sugar here), and glitter covered statues of Jesus, I can't help but think I'll actually miss the State.  As quirky as it is, it is still home.