We were 7 of the 22 votes

When I was a college student in Salem, Oregon, I drove the 45 miles to my home in Portland in order to cast my vote in a school bond election. It was that important. I had recently been a student in the public school system myself, and my brother, who is two years younger than me, still was. Even if that hadn't been the case, I would have come home to vote in that election. Education matters. What could we possibly use our money for that would yield a better return?

That school levy passed. By three votes: my mom, my dad, and me. I'm sure others who supported the levy felt the same, that it was their votes that put it over the top. But no, it was definitely our family.

I have never forgotten that election, and when I hear people say their votes don't matter, I tell this story. It's easy to feel powerless in a system that seems so big, so complex, and (sadly) sometimes so corrupt.

But that kind of apathy never effected change. I grew up in a political family and was taught from infancy by my grandfather the importance of my vote. As a female, I'm especially aware. Suffragettes fought for that right for me not terribly far in the past; I honor their sacrifice by voting always.

And yes, the Parkrose School District in Portland, Oregon secured the funding it needed to serve children, and teachers in that district had salary increases, because my mom and my dad and I went to the polls that day and voted yes!

Recently, another close race occurred right here in Utah. Democrat Ben McAdams defeated incumbent Republican Mia Love for her seat in the U.S. House of Representatives, by just 694 votes! Had it been just 22 votes closer, she could have requested a recount. I am proud to report that seven of those 22 votes were from my immediate family. Again, I'm sure all McAdams supporters are thrilled to be part of those 22 votes, but the Erichsen-Websters are claiming seven of them.

The week prior to the election, McAdams' campaign workers were out in earnest. Literally every day, one of them knocked on my door to make sure I was planning to vote. Yes, I will vote. More importantly, I will vote for Ben! After the fifth day of this, I said to the campaign worker (whose shoes I've been in many times): "You guys really don't need to come here every day. I promise you that every qualified voter in this family is registered. And every one of us will vote for Ben McAdams. No one here will vote for Mia Love."

Still, they came back the following day. Just to be sure.

They knew they had a fight, and they fought it. They knew voter turnout would make the difference.

In the end, they were right.

I couldn't be more delighted to welcome Ben McAdams to the U.S. House of Representatives from the State of Utah. I'm excited to see what a difference in policy his presence there will make.

My vote mattered years ago in that school bond election in Portland, and it mattered again last week right here. It always matters.

We were 7 of the 22.

The Christmas tree that hates Christmas!

In case you've forgotten about my creepy Christmas tree, let me refresh your memory right here. It's seriously possessed! Last year, as we disassembled the thing, I promised myself I would not deal with this stupid tree one more year.

But look! Here we are trying to figure it out again.

This time....... without Seth.

But lest I start getting all wimpy weepy about that, enter Eli and Amanda to the rescue. They are so smart. And helpful. It's a dang good thing they moved in here a month before Seth left on his mission, or things could be really bad.

We decided to pull out the tree extra early to see if a pre-Christmas miracle might occur and the thing could behave like a normal, non-possessed Christmas tree.

But the thing about miracles is they don't happen all the time; that's part of what makes them so miraculous, after all. And so it was with this haunted tree. The second we set it up, random loose branches began to fall on top of each other, just like last year. Luckily, Amanda had this brilliant idea to use zip ties to hold the loose branches in place. Okay, admittedly, I didn't even know what zip ties were (remember how I was napping in Heaven during the distribution of talents?), but she and Eli were sure this would work.

And they were right! Here's Amanda strategically tying up all the lose branches, one at a time. Zip ties for the win!

Could it be this easy? Could our troubles be over? Of course not! Next began the saga of the lights. I always thought a pre-lit Christmas tree would be so easy. You set the thing up, fluff out the branches, plug in the cord, and voila! From top to bottom, the glorious tree lights up, shining forth in the darkness. The symbolism of Christ bringing light to a dark, desperate world warms your soul yet again. It's the magic of Christmas!

Except this tree doesn't seem to understand its role in all of this.

"It's the Christmas tree that hates Christmas," Amanda remarked, and she and Eli spent hours searching up and down, inside and out, over and under branches in attempt to connect the cords in the right order and bring forth light.

"Oooh, I think I found it right here. Now I just need the other one."

"You need a male or a female?"

"A male."

"Dang, I only see a female."

"Try switching these two."

"Hooray, we have the bottom half lit up! Halfway there."

"Okay, now try plugging that one into this one here."

"No! now the bottom lights are off again."

On and on it went, the painstaking process of lighting this stupid tree. I suggested multiple times that they give up. Really, this isn't fun. Go do something fun. They persisted.

In the end, we could never get the entire tree lit at the same time, and I'll likely need to buy a short string of lights to go in the middle, but whatever. It's fine.

I'm just happy to be dealing with it now, not late in the season (you know, like the night before my annual cookie exchange party, or worse (!) Christmas Eve). We'll get it all worked out and have a lovely tree.

For now, we have this: