Picture Telephone

Greg told me about a game called "Picture Telephone" which we tried last week at FHE. The first person starts with a sentence. The next person sees the sentence, and draws a picture of the sentence on the next page. Each person in the group alternates between sentence and picture, but only seeing the very last contribution. Here is mine. I started with "Even with the liahona, I get lost in your eyes." [I had been reading Mormon pickup lines and thought it was funny.]

Here is what the rest of the group contributed.

Alda at almost 95

Grandma will be 95 next month. We got her to pose for a few pictures. I told her we wanted to put an article in the newspaper. She said it wasn't necessary, but she let us take the pictures - so I'm guessing she'll be fine with something in the paper. These are the best of two dozen shots.

I'm thinking her hearing is worse than we thought, as this is what she does when we say, "Say cheese". :-)

Bad Dilbert Cartoon

Since we canceled our home phone, I have been the victim of Century Link. My bill is coming electronically so I don't see it. I can see the amount as it is debited from my checking account, but I can't see the bill.

I try to log on, but it doesn't recognize my password.
I ask to reset it.
It asks me for my account number, which is no longer my home phone (as I don't have a home phone). I don't know the account number. They tell me it is on my bill. I don't have my bill.
I call the "contact us" number and they give me the account number - a made up phone number, but they can't reset my password.
They have me log on again, this time with their made up phone number for me.
When I ask to reset my password, they tell me I need a security code WHICH IS ON MY BILL.
I tell them, I don't have my bill. That is why I called.
There is supposed to be a way of sending my password reset info via my email address, but that is broken and the technician can't make it work either.

He says he could call me with my security code information, but I don't have a phone number (that he has recorded). I told him my phone number. He records it, but says he can't use it to call me - because I just called him and told him to change it, so the request could be fraudulent. He could mail it via surface mail, but that would take several days.

His solution, call back and talk to someone else who will have no idea I just changed the contact phone number three second ago. Are you kidding me? So he thinks my request is fraudulent, so he tells me how to circumvent the checks?

I tried to click on the "online chat" link - but the whole webpage went dark - a decidedly bad situation.

So if you can't get your bill, use your bill to find out how to get your bill.

I think the system was designed by a pathetic computer science student who never could program recursively.

Some days are like that...

My programming languages class is at the other end of campus. I don't think I'm sauntering, but people seem to pass me like I'm standing still. Today, I had left my office late as I had students I was talking with until well past the time to leave. I needed to get to class on time. It has been snowing all day, so the walks were icy. My shoes are heavy duty, but have no traction. As I made my way, I tried to pick less icy spots so I could make better time. Still people kept passing me. I tried to match my pace to those who were passing me, but at best, I could keep up. Of the hundred of students on their way to class, I passed no one.

Up ahead, I noticed a woman who didn't seem to be getting any further ahead of me. Since she didn't know we were racing, I thought I had a chance. I noticed that she was in dress boots, but they were low enough that I figured it was still a "fair" competition. The sidewalks got less icy, and I passed her. Ahhh, finally someone I could pass. However, when I got to the engineering building, instead of staying on the sidewalk, she took a diagonal path through the bike racks, sneaking up behind me, and entered the building before me.

Some days are like that.

And in the name of the Lullaby League, We wish to welcome you to Munchkinland.

As visiting teaching percentages go, our ward is near the city of Enoch. It is amazing! Last month, for instance, we had 123 visits made, 3 sisters missed, and 2 sisters for whom the report was “not available”. People are incredibly responsible and giving. I continue to be impressed by the caring I see. However, we are not quite ready to be translated. As a presidency, we inherited a few odd situations. One sister only accepts a specific sister as her visiting teacher. The assignment can never be changed. It has been that way for years. The previous president tried to fix the situation, but quickly learned that the choice was only one of maintaining the status quo or having no visiting teachers accepted at all.

There are other issues. One or two will only visit their best friends. There are those who don’t want to visit, but will drop off treats/gifts. There are those who don’t want a visit, but love treats/gifts. There are a few that don’t want a partner. There are those that have been known to count honking as a visit. Others call to say they can’t go with a specific person or don’t want the visiting teachers assigned to them.

You’ve got to wonder if we bring the problems on ourselves by being so accommodating. I think if everyone understood the cushy routes that count as visiting teaching, there would be even more requests for “treat dropping visiting teachers” or “going to lunch with friends routes”. Yet, you can only take people as you find them. There are still plenty of opportunities for growth. Maybe the growth is mine. I must admit, my first reaction was, “You have GOT to be kidding me. This is ‘love one another’? This is your idea of sacrifice? With all the trials many of us are facing, you have the time to stress about your visiting teaching route?” It was really distressing at first. I just couldn’t get my mind around it. Now, little surprises me. I find the whole thing intensely interesting. Instead of being judgmental, I find myself curious – like I’ve entered Munchkinland and am studying the route to the Emerald City.

I think visiting teaching is one of those requirements that is much deeper than it appears at first glance. We think we are visiting teaching so that everyone has someone to care for them. We have an organization which facilitates bringing in meals, caring for the sick, and looking after the welfare needs of the members. It is far from efficient. A person is both a visiting teacher and a visiting teachee. One completed visit takes the time of three people, not counting those who call to check up and those who tally the report. When you use the visiting teachers as a calling tree, it is cyclic. Some (in their own way) seek to counsel the Lord in this matter. I rather think the Lord is trying to teach us: This is NOT about efficiency. This is not about what is convenient for you. This is not about your schedule, your friends, or your comfort. This is about loving EVERYONE. Love is not convenient. Love doesn’t expect gratitude. Anybody can love the Dorothy’s of the world. How hard is that? The challenge comes in serving the winged monkeys.

The people and the food

While the sharing of new ideas and the invigoration that comes from being around the movers and the shakers is exciting,the best thing about any conference is the people you meet. Lunch (provided by the conference) is always a fun time to meet people and learn about their lives and challenges. Now that the conference is over, it is more difficult to strike up a conversation.

Everything at the hotel is so EXPENSIVE that we've taken to eating dinner at the bar (actually just chairs in the hotel lobby) where you can get a sandwich and chips for $21 - compared to the dinner prices of $45 per plate upstairs. Last night at dinner, we met a fellow who was talking to the chef about brands of food. Evidently he is a food producer (fruit, grains) throughout Europe who is taking "organic" to a whole new level. As he explained, "organic" can mean most anything. He was into producing food with absolutely no pesticides and giving reassurances that the food was as pure as he claimed. He talked about food producers having markedly different costs, but dealing with the expectation that all food should be reasonably priced. He said, "The reason California can produce food cheaper than the East coast is Mexican workers. If you tell a New Yorker you will pay $8 an hour, long days of work, and no benefits, they refuse to work. If you tell a Hispanic the same thing, they ask, 'When do I start?' - especially if you will provide a home for them and allow family to come with them. The same is true in Europe. Our cheap labor force is Eastern European. You don't get cheap food without taking unfair advantage of people with few options." He was an interesting fellow.

Breakfast (provided by the hotel) is quite the affair. This morning I had two kinds of cold meat (salami and Proscuitto) and six kinds of cheese. The fresh fruit is amazing - melons, mango, pineapple, red grapes, kiwi, oranges. Little pastries and breads are delicious. Steve sticks with traditional fare such as eggs, bacon, and pancakes - but I (who am not a breakfast fan) am enjoying the amazing variety.

Cerro Da Vila Vilamoura

We took the bus into Vilamoura, had lunch at a lovely bistro at the Maria, and enjoyed the warm weather. We asked the waitress why people came to Vilamoura. She said, "Golf and warm weather. That is all you can expect in Portugal.". We had seen a fair number of tourists - older couples walking hand in hand. Some were younger. Most seemed to have no clearer destination than we did. We asked the waitress about the museum (archaeological site) up the street. She said there wasn't much there. Of course, I'm not sure any of the locals have ever been there as the staff at the hotel (after some consultation) had indicated its location on the map without even knowing it was already on the map some distance away from their designated location.

Some of the signs were even in English, giving us a chance to practice Portuguese to English translation. Many did not have an English translation (and the woman who took our entrance fee disappeared after we entered) so we had fun trying to decide what things were. Pottery, lamps, cooking utensils, hair pins. In a basket next to the display of cooking utensils was the bones of an ancient Portuguese resident with the explanation that the dead were sent to the other side with containers for cooking.


The entrance to the complex had mosaic flooring.

All bedrooms opened up to a central patio. Below you see a soaking area.

In some way, this area was used to warm the water that was channeled to the bath areas.

This is an artists rendition of the whole area. There are large public bath areas, but they can find no evidence of a large enough population living here to warrant such an edifice.

This is the base of a winepress for crushing olives or grapes for oil/wine. We also saw underground pits for storing salted fish and large containers for storing grains underground.

The area was inhabited by Roman settlers in the first century. The elaborate effort to bring water into the homes reminds me of aqueducts we saw in Rome.





These are waterways to take warmed water into the spas, bath areas, and to warm the bedroom floors. Ingenious!

After our self-tour of the archaeological site, we walked the 3 miles to the hotel. We asked about a tour to Lisbon, but it is 7 hours on a bus for five hours in Lisbon (some of which time is spent shopping), so I think we'll just soak up the rays here for another day.

Prawn's with their heads on

We are in Portugal for a conference that begins tomorrow. This place is REALLY off the beaten track. The bus to the village center runs about twice a day. They claim it will be more often once the hundreds of conference participants get here, but they didn't seem to have any details. I asked if there were any buses we could take if we were willing to pay, but there weren't. I'm beginning to think the conference organizers misunderstood travel in the area. We were TOLD the two bus trip from the airport was about 6 Euro. Since we arrived in the middle of the night (literally) we were NOT up for two bus rides, but I don't think the second bus to the hotel really exists (other than the twice a day route). Glad we took the taxi.

We walked the 5k to the village center, and planned to take the courtesy bus back. We saw a guy carrying his poster to the conference walking along the same strip going towards the hotel. Guess he didn't find the second bus either. The whether is about 50 degrees and gorgeous. The marina was beautiful, with a handful of people walking along the beach. It is Sunday, so maybe it livens up during the week.

The restaurant was completely empty except for us. I ordered prawns with the heads on. And yes, I actually knew they had their heads on when I ordered them. I told the waitress I wouldn't be eating the heads. She said, "People don't eat the heads, just such on them." I didn't such on them either. They were actually quite wonderful.

We did find the courtesy bus (actually a van) to come home. It was filled to overflowing with people trying to get back to our hotel.

The area is a major disappointment after the venue in Rome last year, where there was tons to do every day. Here I'm thinking prawns with their heads on may be the highlight - unless we take a four hour train ride to Lisbon.

Thoughts from church...

Ross Brown taught Sunday School today. He is a historian by profession and very interesting. We were talking in first Nephi about the liahona. He talked about the two spindles and asked, "If the liahona worked on faithfulness, if it stopped working, how could you tell? Don't pointers always point?" I hadn't thought of that before. He said that the role of the second spindle was to notify when the liahona was working. If the two pointers coincided, it was working. Otherwise, it wasn't.

He also used the following two quotes that rang true:

Richard G Scott said, “Just when all seems to be going right, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding, and compassion which polish you for your ever-lasting benefit.”

Boyd K Packer: "I say again that youth today are being raised in enemy territory with a declining standard of morality... It is not expected that you go through life without making mistakes, but you will not make a major mistake without first being warned by the promptings of the Spirit. "

Great food for thought.

Cannot possibly

We leave for Portugal within the week. I need to present a paper and Steve is coming with me.

As I was preparing for my talk, I reread the paper that had been accepted and had a few things I just didn't agree with. I went back to earlier versions of the paper to see if I used to understand, but had lost it. No, I had clearly told the student what had to be said. He is a PhD student and he is first author, so I trusted him to fix it. He is Nigerian, but has excellent writing skills.

In two places, he said that you "cannot possibly" find a better solution. The truth is that the solution is approximate, likely a good one, but is not guaranteed to be the best. Come to find out he thought the "possibly" in "cannot possibly" weakened it. ARGGGG!! Wish me luck explaining "cannot possibly". Hopefully, no one will have read the paper before my talk.

In every negative, there is a positive

In reading friends' (Jay and Judy) missionary blog, I learned they had been called to be substitute Sunday School teachers - in case someone doesn't show up. I've heard of wards like that - where you never know if the teachers will show up.

I am 1st counselor in the Relief Society of my home ward - over lessons. Our ward is so amazing. Not only do teachers always show up, they have prepared for months in advance. We have them teaching every other month (to give more people callings) - so they literally prepare for the two months. I have become so complacent in my calling that I don't even always read the lesson ahead of time. Today, as I was sitting in Steve's sacrament meeting, I wondered what the lesson was. I have access to the internet there and had my IPAD, so I pulled up an email I had send about the lesson schedule. I pulled up the three conference talks, and during the sacrament, I started reading the talks.

By the time I can sat through two sacrament meetings, and two versions of the same Sunday School lesson, I had read all the talks. It is so rare for me to do that. I felt impressed I should.

When it was time for RS, I saw the RS teacher heading off in the other direction, but I assumed she was going to the library. She wasn't. She never returned. She evidently was confused by five Sundays in the month. Yours truly got to wing the lesson. While it is NOT the way I like to give a lesson, it turned out fine. My favorite teaching trick with adults is to give them a question and have them "visit with their neighbors". After a few minutes of visiting, they share their insights. For a ward like ours, it works amazingly well.

The lesson was on "Dare to stand alone", "Stand in Holy Places" and "Teaching after the manner of the spirit". A few thoughts that hit me.

Like other Mormons, I have been following the presidential primaries. Some of the comments like "I would rather vote for a serial adulterer than a Mormon" are quite hurtful. This morning on NPR I heard a glimpse of a piece of Mitt's Mexican's relatives (from polygamous ancestry). I have almost thought, "If he loses quickly, at least we won't have to endure such negative press." No matter what your political stand, I think it is time for all of us to dare to stand alone and stand up for what we believe.

Through the YSA ward, I am facebook friends with a number of the young people. In many cases, their private life aligns perfectly with their church image, but in a few notable cases, what I see on their photo album or through their correspondence is not what they profess to be.

Last night I was listening to a BYUI talk from 2009. Originally it was "unreleased" so I hadn't heard it. Going back through the archives, I noticed it had been released. It was a very interesting talk by Ahmad Corbitt. He is a lawyer and (more recently) over public and international affairs for the church in NY. He said, "Any negative has a corresponding opportunity or something that engenders happiness. If you have a mindset to see it and if you are prayerful, the Lord will make it known." He is the stake president in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. One of their buildings had been vandalized. Someone had broken in, spread graffiti everywhere, defaced pictures of Christ, and most disturbingly fired nine rounds into the area behind the choir loft. The police and FBI became involved. Remarkably, there was no media coverage. They did not want any media around it, as who wants to join a church that just got vandalized?

Members were uncomfortable. Knowing that this principle is true, they were prayerful and looked for a positive. They held a re-dedication service and invited the whole community. Community members wanted to reconfirm their desire for religious freedom and respect. It became an amazing interfaith meeting. The members fashioned displays of the various auxiliaries. The community got to feel and experience who we, as members, really are.

In every negative, there is a positive.

Loved these thoughts

Sometimes God calms the storm… Sometimes He lets the storm rage and calms His Child

Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, FAITH looks up.

The twins

I had Chelle send me pictures of the girls. I think I may need an identify check. I think Savannah is in the blue stripped, but every other picture is of Eve. Am I right?

They look so healthy!!!

Christmas at the Tucker's

Here are some pictures from Christmas Eve. Santa came early to SLC so when we visited, we got to see all the kids' toys.

Santa's elves had been busy. The playhouse and the Barbie house were much loved.

When we got there, Trisha and Brandon were exhausted, but Zach and Grandpa were glued at the hip. They went from one activity to the next while the rest of us napped.

Halle showed her true "colors" as she and I watched Beauty and the Beast. I got the running commentary, "Belle is in a blue dress." "Belle is in a green dress." "Belle is in a yellow dress." Through the whole movie, Halle never missed a single costume change. So cute.

My picture taking didn't extend to the other family members we saw over the holidays. Darn it!

Funerals.. a gift of love

It was Floy Scott's funeral today. I actually like funerals. For people in our ward, I often only know them as an old person. I love to learn about their live as a young adult, newlywed, and parent. It is also fun to visit with those who are there to provide the funeral luncheon. Mary Cherrington is such a doll to always bring rolls for 150. I told her she was earning points in heaven. She said, "I really like to do it. While I'm making rolls for their funeral, I think about the person. It is really 'my time' with them." I thought that was sweet. Mary said that her mother made the comment, "I do NOT want a luncheon put on by the Relief Society when I die. I've done FAR too many luncheons for others to want them to go through the effort for me. I've set aside money so you can cater my funeral luncheon." We laughed, but Mary said, "People want to serve. I don't think she is thinking about that part of the luncheon."

At the funeral, one of the sons was praising Floy saying, "If you could think of a single word to describe mom, it would be 'kind'. She was always serving others. When she was in the rehabilitation center for so long, I would call each day. One time I said, 'remember your prayers' - such an odd thing to be saying to your parent who taught you how to pray. She said, 'Oh, I remember them and for the first time, I'm praying for me.'" I thought that was pretty sweet.

Sub for Santa

Tonight was the final Sub for Santa activity. After the auction and two shopping days, we got together to wrap and deliver. I'm officially out of boxes, tape, wrapping paper, and tags. After Christmas sales, here I come.

Not for Young Children

I had to post proof that we did put up a few decorations.

Tuckers said they didn't give us the nativity scene on our front porch - so where did it come from?

Trisha also says the singers are scary - so I guess young children shouldn't view this post. Trish, I'm willing them to you.

Service Auction

We had such a great YSA activity last night. It was a sub-for-santa service auction. The young single adults volunteered their services which were purchased by other YSAs. The proceeds are going to a family identified by one of the area bishops as being in need this Christmas.

The Elders quorum president (Chase) contributed dinner and sledding with he and his two roommates. This was a hot item, going for well over $60. I was a bit surprised at some of the gals that jumped into the bidding. Halfway through the bidding Chase said, "When we do dinner, that usually means we eat out." Then the bids took a jump in price. I can't remember who won, but it was hilarious.

One of the fellows (who teaches computing at Bridgerland) volunteered his services for a hair cut. Nick said he had five years of experience. Then the jokes started in, "So, did you cut your own hair?" He said, "No, but I can cut women's hair, grey hair (looking at dad). I can even do a color job." Jonathan piped up with, "I'll buy it for ten dollars to save others the agony of a haircut by Nick." Everybody laughed.

Sarah volunteered sparkly Gel toenails. Chase could no way figure it out. So is it applied by a brush? Can I do it myself so no one has to touch my toes? I couldn't do that. Ryan (the Athletic VP on campus) said, "I'll buy it for brother Allan, but he's got to wear sandals to church so I can see the results." The laughter continued.

The bishop's 11 year old son got into the bidding. Since he was bidding with his Dad's money, he couldn't be beat. He was so cute about it.

The Fronk sisters (who never come to FHE because they spend Monday nights with their own family) were there with pies, eclairs, sewing lessons, and a beaded choker. Those items pulled high bids, so I was delighted their efforts to support the activity were received with open mouths.

Fred auctioned off his artistic skills to draw a portrait. Nick (our activites chair) offered 15 minutes of TV time on comcast. The bishop bought it, saying we were going to broadcast a ward talent show with the time.

Leslie (our RS president) ended up with several dates she won - one with Jesse (three years her junior).

They must have contacted local businesses for donations as well as there was a gift certificate to Olive Garden, movie tickets, and ski passes that were also auctioned off.

It was a great activity that netted well over $800. Next Monday we'll wrap and buy the presents. I've seen service auctions in a regular ward, but it was really fun in a singles ward.

The hardest conjugation

Carol Lynn Pearson said about death...
Putting you
In the past tense
Was, I'm afraid,
The hardest
Conjugation
I ever made.

I saw that today as Steve and I went to his Aunt Kaye Rees' funeral in Salt Lake. Before the funeral, we talked to Uncle Vincent. Steve had shown me the home they used to live in, but it was different than I remembered so I asked Vincent their old address and where he lives now. He kept saying "We live..." and "They take care of us really well there" and "They come into clean for us once a week". He is 99. They have been married for 71 years. Past tense is going to continue to be a tough conjugation.

A funny thing someone said at the funeral: I find myself thinking a lot about the hereafter. I go into a room and ask, "Now what am I here after?"

Magic

For Thanksgiving this year, everyone was home except for Greg (who was dearly missed). With cousins to play with and aunts and uncles to entertain them, the grandkids were in a state of bliss. Thus, I was surprised one evening with Zach said to me, “Grandma, can you play with me?” I was flattered, but had a twin in one arm, was heading to the basement to help Brooke with a computer game, and to grab something from the storage room for dinner. I told him, “Yes”, but it was several minutes before I made it to the cars and little people he was playing with. Savannah was thrilled to be included in the play, and kept jumping in my arms to get a better view. I clearly didn’t understand the rules of playing with cars. We were playing a game of chase, but I wasn’t limber enough or quick enough to ever catch him and kept resorting to flying cars, which was evidently illegal.

After a while he said, “Are you good at trains?” The train set in the basement spans two tables at different levels. Playing trains invariably means constructing tracks with bridges, lifts, and curves. While I’m not good with a single table, two tables make it twice as hard. You have to manage the gap and level change, in addition to making the parts connect and stay on the table. Zach and I have played trains before, but I’m really BAD at it. I do great in the first half of the assembly, but for some reason, the track pieces that I need to finish the task just haven’t been invented yet. His father, on other hand, is a pro – making elaborate designs that would make the toy catalogs jealous. [If Brandon gets bored as a civil engineer, I think he’s got options with Thomas & Friends. ]

Anyway, when Zach asked, “Are you good at trains?” I responded honestly, “No, I’m pretty terrible at trains.” To which he responded, “You just put the tracks together like this until they connect. It’s easy to me.” I loved it.

It got me thinking about my relationship with my grandparents. Grandma and Grandpa Lasson lived on a farm in Birdseye, Utah. The, then, three hour drive to Spanish Fork canyon seemed unbearable, and was filled with carsickness and lots of “Are we there yet?” and “He’s touching me”, but the pain of getting there was the only negative. The house was heated by a wood burning stove, but the warmth of their adoration was even more intense. Everything I said was treasured and (nearly) everything I did was admired. Grandma was always willing to teach me a new card game while Grandpa played an unending game of Solitaire, with cards so warped I wondered how he could shuffle them.

Like my mother, Grandma was a candy addict and a great cook. We quickly demolished the salt water taffy she always kept on hand and relished the cookies she prepared just for us.

My grandparent’s home was small with memories embedded in the architecture – the ice house was transformed into a shed and the backyard was graced with an outhouse which still functioned if you couldn’t quite make it to the small bathroom inside the house. There was much laughter as Grandma and Grandpa reflected on out-house pranks and remembered weekly visits of the iceman.

A bedroom had been added to one corner, eliminating the need for the three sisters to sleep in the living room on a pull out bed. Mom would laugh that her sisters abhorred the fact that she was a bed wetter, yet they still had her sleep between them. There was no basement, but a cellar had been dug out under the kitchen. The only way to get to it was to lift up a section of the kitchen floor. For a child, the house was magical.

Grandpa was a farmer, raising chickens, cattle, and hay. They had horses for us to ride and haystacks that we would climb and slide down. I never heard one complaint about the mess we made of the hay stacks, though they must have secretly been happy when our car pulled out of the lane that connected their home to the highway. My cousins lived a stone’s throw away, so there was always someone to spur an adventure to the “Old Place” to catch pollywogs or tiny fish in the stream. We often cajoled an adult into saddling the horses for a trot to round mountain.

I guess the magic of their home was felt by all of us, as when my Aunt died a few years ago, my siblings and I took an afternoon to return to my Grandparent’s home. Devoid of parents and grandparents, the home still had the power to take us into the past. It has boarded up and in need of repair, but the magic we felt being there was still powerful.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was filled with visiting, eating, chocolate dipping, going to the temple, playing, and more eating. The highlight for me was the time we skype-d Greg. It was tough having him in China while the rest of us were together. All the pictures of us around the kitchen table were of the Skype session.

Blindness, the last frontier

The YSA is having a turkey dinner for 150 on Monday!

I woke up at six this morning (how I hate that I can't sleep). I finished my book, dyed my hair, and made nine loaves of bread and a batch of cookie dough. I'd had to grind the wheat and start the turkeys thawing in the sink for a few hours (as I never trust them to totally thaw in the fridge) I was meeting our FHE leader to go shopping at ten, so I had Steve help me spread butter in the pans as I threw the bread dough into them. The kitchen was a mess - with dirty pans in the sink and the wheat grinder on the counter. I left him a note: "Let rise until 10:30. Bake at 350. Cook for 35 minutes. Use both ovens."

Shandy and I went shopping to order pies/rolls and buy paper products, salad, dressing, and green beans at Sam's Club. Who knew that Sam's was such a social place. I saw a dozen people I knew and got three phone calls while we were there. After I dropped Shandy off at her house and unloaded some of the food, I ran to Macey's for a few things that were cheaper there. I decided to pick up forty pounds of ice, as our bishop's wife said they had plenty of room in their freezer and I had to stop by their home anyway. Plus, it would mean one less thing to pick up on Monday. I forgot about ice until the last minute when the clerk was filling out the paperwork for the charge. When I got to the ice machines as I left the store, I threw in the ice and headed to my car. Low and behold, I had eighty pounds of ice. While I was checking out, they had already loaded forty pounds of ice under my cart, and I had never seen them. How did they do that? Embarrassed, I hauled the ice I had loaded back.

Anyway, I got home just before one - some three hours after I had left. I walked in and there sat half of the loaves of bread. Steve hadn't even seen them. He baked five loaves (in two ovens :-)), had eaten half of one, had waited til they cooled, bagged them, and put them in the freezer - ALL without seeing the other four loaves. My kitchen is NOT that big nor was it that messy - as he had done a lot of the dishes by the time I got home.

Blindness --- the last frontier.

I baked them anyway - so we'll have to see how they taste.

So Funny

Last night, I went out with Kelly to deliver the Daughters in My Kingdom book to those who weren't in church the day we passed them out. We had a great time visiting. Kelly has a magic with people. Some were ill. Some were totally inactive. Some were very anti. Yet, Kelly could connect with all of them. We were fast, too. In under two hours, we made four visits with sisters, and visited with children of five others who weren't home. I was impressed with our speed.

Gail is a non-member who likes to come to activities, so we dropped a book by her house. We got visiting about exercise and health. I told her, "I just hate it when doctors say, 'You look good for sixty'". She was incredulous, "So they think you are sixty?"

I laughed and said, "I AM sixty." Pretty funny.