We are the friendly face . . .

. . . of the love of letters . . .

And for those of you who don't know the reference (I'm guessing the vast majority of you), this comes from our Writing Fellows theme song, written a few years ago by a talented undergraduate student with clearly too much time on his hands. I include this as our title because a) I can't think of anything better and b) this song is still running through my head from our Winter retreat yesterday.

We don't have much to report of the week itself, but our Saturday was unusually busy. I, as mentioned, spent the morning on campus for our Winter retreat. We pretty much took over the Maeser building and spent the day alternating between workshops focused on strategies to improve our "fellowing" (Writing Fellow speak for tutoring--although I have to admit that it sounds friendlier to me than "tutoring") and activities designed to improve camaraderie among the students. Our theme (admittedly, only loosely enforced) was "Survivor: Writing Fellows," which gave us the excuse to pose challenges for the students like limerick writing, and a charades activity that somehow involved students running up three flights of stairs in the Maeser building. Needless to say, I think everyone had a lot of fun. The limericks were especially funny: the winning limerick won largely because one of its' authors wasn't afraid to use her best rap imitation to perform the poem. The only one I really remember was the one my group put together (and what you have to know about this is that at least half of the poems were about the cookie jar in the WF office--it's become a firm tradition):

There once was a cookie jar full
But by the day's end it was null
When students came by
They said with a sigh,
"Alas! It goes hungry my soul!"

For me, the retreat was at times profound and poignant--that the retreat happened was largely due to the dedication of my office staff and other students who pitched in to teach the workshops and help set up and clean up. If nothing else, my brief tenure as coordinator has taught me the value of delegating things (since I simply can't--in the time I have--take care of everything that needs to be done). It's also taught me that many people will perform up to expectations--I've asked a lot of these students at times and they have always met my expectations. Granted, that may be because this group of students is a pretty extraordinary one--some of the best BYU has to offer, I'm convinced. They are, with very few exceptions, dedicated students who joined Writing Fellows because they felt they had something valuable to offer the campus community--and who come away from the program realizing not only the joy of helping other writers, but how--not coincidentally--their own writing skills have improved tremendously through that service to others. (As you might be able to tell, I'm pretty fond--and proud--of these students. I keep telling Dan that I wish I could take this job with me, largely because of how much I value this interaction with these students).

While I was on campus, Dan took Andrew up to Salt Lake to play with his cousins. And play they did--they went to the park and fed ducks (and Andrew apparently ended up covered in what Dan euphemistically refers to as "duck butter"--his decorated pants are also apparently hiding in the laundry somewhere, and I'm not very excited about unearthing them!) and had a picnic; they also went to the zoo to wring the last bit of use out of our yearly pass before it expires. I'm not sure how much Dan enjoyed himself, but Andrew apparently had a splendid time. (No pictures, unfortunately!)

And where, you may ask, was Evelyn in all this excitement? She got to spend the morning with Grandma. After her nap, Grandma took her to a baby shower where she was apparently "oohed" and "aahed" over by the assembled matrons and passed from lap to lap to lap. Evelyn really is a charming baby who doesn't fuss much--but she *does* like to be held.