Taking a leap of faith to avoid a literal bursting at the seams

A few months ago, as I sat in my hairstylist's chair solving world problems, we somehow arrived on the topic of my physical scriptures. Keep in mind that I visit Heidi every 8-9 weeks to have my extensions moved up and my hair cut and colored. The whole process takes 3-4 hours, so we cover lots of topics. In this case, I was telling her about my study quad, which is about 25 years old and has been well loved and well used all that time. As I study, I write annotations on small Post-it notes. These comments include my thoughts and perspectives on the text, along with specific questions to ask when I'm teaching. And I stick these Post-it notes to the pages with the scripture references connected to my comments.

It's super efficient; however, I've recently realized that it's not going to work forever. There are so many Post-it notes everywhere that the text, itself, is hard to read without removing and reattaching the Post-it notes (which, of course, is why Post-it notes work well, but still). And, my quad is now so thick that it's difficult to hold in one hand. I also worry the binding won't hold up much longer, but I surely can't get rid of all these notes! They are the result of years of study, and they represent the evolution of my thoughts on so much doctrine.

Heidi suggested I use the annotations tool in the Gospel Library app. Say what? Give up my physical scriptures and move fully digital? Uh, no. I can't do that. But what if there were some sort of hybrid approach? What if I kept my physical quad intact with all the Post-it notes in place, but gradually shifted over to the Gospel Library app? This would take a long time, obviously, but what if each time I read something, whether just a few verses or several chapters, I typed the comments from the Post-it notes into the annotations tool on my phone?

I've been doing this for a few weeks now, and it's actually quicker and easier than I expected. The second step, and the one I'm still not fully committed to, is using the app for all new comments I write and not making any new Post-it notes. This one is more challenging. I don't even know how to study scriptures without Post-it notes and a pen in hand. At home, I'm still doing both: writing new Post-it notes, then typing them into the app. But last week at church, I conducted an experiment. I didn't bring any blank Post-it notes. I was studying the Book of Revelation as we finish up the NT this month. I read Chapters 11-14 and made several notes in the annotations tool, but I didn't write any Post-it notes. I may have made a couple notes with a pen in the margin of my physical scriptures, but not that many. 

How did it feel? A little weird but mostly good? Since then, I've checked the app several times to make sure those notes are still there and accessible. They are!

So thanks to Heidi, I took a leap of faith to save my beloved scriptures from literally bursting at the seams!

All is calm, all is bright. Even though the code was broken.

(Photo cred: Mathew Monson)

After a super fun gingerbread house party hosted by Shulamith on Christmas Eve afternoon, I packed up an overnight bag and drove to Eli and Amanda's. Ever since Shulamith and Mathew got married almost 14 years ago, we have alternated December 25th with Matt's family. On the "off" years, we just move our whole celebration to a different day, and while my sons don't love this plan, it works just fine and they live with it. This was an "off" year, so we scheduled our Christmas Eve for Dec. 26th and Christmas Day for the 27th. Before Eli was married, on "off" years, I would usually just hang out alone on the 25th, reminding myself often that "This is not Christmas, and 25 is just a number." (All true, by the way.) Gerald and the boys would busy themselves with the things they like to do: online work, Dominion, video games, sometimes a movie. It was fine.

However, once Eli and Amanda got married seven years ago, they've invited me to spend the 24th and 25th with them on the "off" years, a blessing I never take for granted. This year was especially magical because their daughter, Jane, recently turned two, and this was the first year she had any idea about Christmas. It was joyous! And so calm with just the four of us. 

All is calm.

Christmas Eve night, we ate dinner and prepped for the next morning. Amanda and Jane left cookies out for Santa, and Eli read us all the story of Jesus' birth from the Gospel of Luke. That was my favorite!

Amanda and I wrapped a few last presents, and we all went to bed. I can't say we went to sleep exactly; Eli and I are still like little kids and find sleep elusive on Christmas Eve, but I think we both slept a little.

I woke up before everyone else and enjoyed the quiet house as I sat in the recliner by the light of the tree and browsed all my friends' Christmas posts on social media, smiling at each one. Eli woke up next, and we wrapped some last-minute gifts for Amanda. Then I headed out to Maverik with three Stanleys in hand to bring back fresh fountain Diet Cokes for the three of us.

At around 10:30, they decided to gently wake Jane. Amanda was so excited for Jane to see her "Santa" gift, a beautiful doll house that Amanda built for her. 

It seems she likes it!

We ate the most delicious cinnamon rolls that Amanda made from scratch, and later some biscuits and gravy. In between, we enjoyed watching one another open presents, one at a time, which is how we do it in our family. I've heard other families open their gifts all at once at the same time, but I want to watch every person open every gift!

I went home for a couple hours in the afternoon and listened to Seth talk through some LSAT prep questions. Then, Gerald, Seth, and I all went back to Eli and Amanda's house for Christmas dinner: pork nachos. It was a perfectly lovely (and calm) Christmas celebration Round 1!

All is Bright.

I think we were all grateful for a "rest day" on the 26th, to prepare for our larger celebration. A friend's Xmas card reads, "All is not calm, but all is definitely bright." This is a spot on description of our Christmas celebration Round 2 yesterday, with the entire family other than our oldest son Luke and his daughter, who live in Maryland. With 12 people, four of whom are age 11 and under, there was nothing calm about it. But it was surely bright: bright with noise, bright with excitement, bright with hope, and bright with love!

Tuesday night we opened our traditional Christmas Eve pajamas, this year navy shirts with a candy cane peace sign and the words "Peace and Joy." 

Then we began the process of getting settled for the night, who would sleep where, etc. Matt is the only one who didn't stay over. I don't think he quite understands the joy of everyone sleeping under the same roof on Christmas Eve, then waking up together on Christmas morning, but for a Christmas mom like me, it's the best thing ever.

The next morning we gathered in the basement to open gifts in our regular pattern of youngest to oldest. Except this year something startling occurred. Each year I create a new code to identify Christmas gifts. I don't use people's actual names on the tags, but instead assign everyone a code name. This is because my children are snoopy. Especially Eli. He is the snoopiest. And I don't want them shaking their presents and trying to figure out what they are. For over three decades, this system has successfully prevented that. No one has ever broken the code. Until this year... 

Take a wild guess who did it? If you are thinking "Swen Webster-Monson," you would be correct. How could this happen, you ask? Well, let me just tell you. A few days ago, this conversation between Swen and me transpired:

Swen: Hey Her, can I borrow your phone. I wanna watch a YouTube video.

Me: Sure! (handing him my phone) 

Swen: Thanks.

After a few minutes, I learn that Swen has found the code and sent a screenshot to everyone in the family. The kid is positively unstoppable! :-)

Nevertheless, Christmas Round 2 was awesome and fabulously bright. Gift opening took until mid-afternoon, and the rest of the day we ate good food and just hung out together. Here are some highlights:

Cookies, lights, and a dusting of Christmas snow!

"And I totally forgot; when are we doing our cookie day? Time's running out!" 

This text from Amanda a few days ago reminded us that we hadn't scheduled our annual cookie baking party. Nor had we chosen a night to drink hot chocolate and drive around to look at beautiful Christmas lights. These are both important traditions!

The season didn't exactly creep up on me; it's more like it gobsmacked me in the face without warning. It's been an intense fall. Trying to keep up with eight classes at three different colleges nowhere near one another has proven just as challenging as it sounds. I only left my phone on the FrontRunner once. The second time it was Trax and it was my entire purse! My Type A, ultra organized personality flew right out the window with this semester's teaching schedule. At the same time, I was abruptly and prematurely released from my church calling, and I can't even describe the level of angst and despair that has caused. All in all, I'm ready for a new semester, and yes, a brand new year!`

But back to Christmas. We decided on this past Friday for both cookies and lights. My final grades were due Wednesday at midnight, so that gave me two days to recover, along with responding to students who expected different grades than what they earned:

"All I'm asking for is a C. I really need to pass this class."

"Dude, you finished the course with 59%, and your final research essay was 100% ChatGPT, so...."

Now that Shulamith's kids are old enough to actually be helpful, I feel like the cookie baking was more efficient than ever before. We cranked out ginger, shortbread, and chocolate crinkle cookies, all in about two hours. 

After lunch and some rest time, we headed out to grab hot chocolate and look at lights. Eli is our driver and personal guide to all the best displays, and he did not disappoint. We saw so many amazing houses, all lit up, in many cases synchronized with music we could hear by tuning our radio to the posted frequencies. We saw lots of snow people, Santa and reindeer, along with several themed displays including The Grinch and Nightmare Before Christmas. All were wonderful, so much fun! But my favorite by far was the picture at the top of this page, a nativity scene with live animals (!) and an audio of someone reading the story of Christ's birth from the Gospel of Luke. It was the coolest! 

Yesterday (Saturday) would be our last shopping opportunity, so Shulamih and I left early in the morning to help Santa with stockings. It has been an untypically warm fall, so when I walked outside to fresh snow, it felt sorta magical. Shulmaith's son Swen was still asleep at that point, but later when he woke up, he called Shulamith and told her that he had "prayed so hard for Jesus to send snow for Christmas, and it worked!" I don't think we'll get a white Christmas, but that dusting of Christmas snow Saturday morning was lovely, and I'm grateful Swen's prayer was answered.

Have I mentioned how much I love unemployment?

As of this past Friday, my fall 2023 classes are officially over at all three schools. Which means I am technically unemployed. Hooray! As an adjunct, my contracts are only ever for one semester. That means no one is obligated to hire me back to teach classes in January. In reality, I already have my offers from all three schools, and my teaching schedule for spring 2024 is set, assuming the classes carry and aren't canceled for low enrollment. That uncertainty is just part of the adjunct dance, a sometimes tricky one to navigate.

For now, though, I am fully enjoying my "unemployed" status. On my first day of unemployment, I woke naturally at the time my body prefers: 7:15 a.m., in sharp contrast to the 5:15 a.m. alarm I set three days a week for the past 16 weeks. I ran downstairs to grab a Diet Coke (Don't judge! People drink coffee in the morning; I can drink Diet Coke), then ran right back upstairs and back into bed. I scrolled through a bit of social media. I played Wordle and Connections. I worked on revisions of our family Christmas letter to be illustrated by Kennedy, printed, and sent this coming week.

Then I leisurely got up and dressed and headed up to the mall in Sandy to walk with my friend Emily. After a fabulous walk/chat with her, I got Flake mini-pies and Zao takeout for Shulamith and me, and arrived back at her house just as she was pulling in the driveway, home from her morning kindergarten job. We ate lunch, and then I left to meet my friend Allie for yet another walk. I sure love to walk! Especially with friends.

I still have lots of grading to do before I can submit final grades and be completely done with the semester. I've been studying the Book of Revelation these past couple of weeks, the current text for our church's Sunday School curriculum. The number "7" in the Bible symbolizes a sense of completeness. That sounds awesome! I can't wait until I can feel that #7, that sense of completeness, as I click "submit" for my eight classes. I'm trying hard to remain calm in the meantime and not stress too much, but rather work on grading consistently for some part(s) of each day. I will finish. I always do. (Though I've never taught eight classes before, so maybe I won't?)

I guess we'll see. Until then, have I mentioned how much I love unemployment?

It's okay. It will come again and again and again.

Thursday evening after dinner, I fell into a deep, post-Thanksgiving meal sleep. We had feasted on turkey that Mathew smoked in his Traeger, and I'm pretty sure I'll never roast a Thanksgiving turkey in my oven ever again. I'm not a fan of surprises or things not going according to my ever-so-careful plans, but this particular part of the mayhem worked out perfectly. When my oven broke prior to Thanksgiving and was not repairable, we asked Matt if he'd consider smoking the turkey, in case I couldn't get a new oven installed in time. As it turned out, my new oven was delivered Wednesday evening, but Matt decided to go forward with the smoking adventure anyway. I AM SO GLAD HE DID! Augmented with the traditional stuffing, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, deviled eggs, and rolls, it was a fabulous meal. Sadly, I didn't remember to take any pictures that day, other than my BeReal, so I'll give you that one:

Sorry no one was posing or even looking at the camera, but we were all too busy being real. 

Throughout the day, like so many other moms, I felt immense gratitude for my wonderful family; everyone was here with us except Luke and his daughter, who live in Maryland. People tell you to avoid discussion of religion and politics at social gatherings, but in our family, those are the two most favorite topics of all, and Thursday was no exception. It was somber as we shared our feelings about the tragic situation in Israel, and our heartbreak for all parties involved. Gerald and I have a trip to Israel scheduled for May. Will we even get to go? We don't know. 

Between dinner and dessert (yes, Matt, that's how it goes; we need time to digest our food and get hungry again before diving into pie), we played Ransom Notes and Family Feud. Eli is the best game show host and should definitely be on TV! Eventually, I found my way upstairs to my glorious bed, and, as noted above, fell promptly into unconsciousness, but not before remembering that "Tomorrow is arguably the best day of the entire year!" It's true. I love all holidays because I love to celebrate! I love making memories, establishing traditions, and any excuse for my family to be together. But Black Friday is special. It brings together most of my favorite things: shopping, eating, laughing, and preparing for Christmas. 

I can't even remember the first time Shulamith and I went Black Friday shopping, but it's been at least two decades. And we never miss a year. For seven of those, we froze to death through the early-morning winters in Billings, Montana. Even in 2020 when we were stuck home here in Utah, we improvised. Yesterday marks another Black Friday shopping day, and it was epic. I picked Shulamith up at 7 a.m., the first snow of the season falling gently to earth on BLACK FRIDAY! Could it get any better? We drove through Beans & Brews for steaming cups of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, then headed straight to Target. In a couple hours we parted with much of our Christmas cash, but also made serious progress on our Christmas shopping lists, and we moved on to Fashion Place. That place has way too many memories for me and surfaces all sorts of nostalgia. Coming to visit Shulamith during her college days, roaming the mall while she finished her shift across the street at Macaroni Grill, shopping for my dress for her wedding, the list goes on.

We are, if nothing else, efficient shoppers, and at the mall, we continued to cross item after item off our list. The only lack of efficiency was a few times when I tried to pay, and the sales associate told me they "don't take cash at this register" and I'd have to go to a different one. Haha, I use cash only one day in the year: Black Friday. I withdraw cash every month starting in January and put it in a well-hidden envelope. By Black Friday shopping day, I have quite a wad. I love using the cash! It's already out of my account, so I mean it's basically free money when you think about it. 

While sharing our favorite Chicken Madeira with mashed potatoes at Cheesecake Factory, we reorganized ourselves and our shopping lists, and formulated a plan of action for the afternoon. We also took the opportunity to order stuff from Amazon, because, though we love the "shopping in real stores" experience, some deals are just better online. With Thanksgiving desserts still in our fridges at home, we skipped cheesecake and headed back out.

Next stop, Costco, followed by Walmart, our absolute least favorite store, but one that had a few items we needed. After an hour or so at each, we declared ourselves done for the day. One brief stop at Maverik for Diet Coke, and we were home.

Oh, and in case you're asking yourselves, "Did they buy anything for themselves?" of course we did. Every year, we get one item for ourselves, usually the same thing, but this year, not even close. I bought a super cute pair of corduroy joggers, and Shulamith bought a 4-slice toaster. When your husband bakes the best sourdough bread on the planet, your family eats a lot of toast!

Friday night, I began to feel the sadness of the day ending. It was exactly the emotional boost I needed, in the throws of so, so much grading and the many challenges that have been mine this fall. But Black Friday will come again and again and again, and now we focus forward, toward our month-long celebration of the baby born so long ago, in a small town to humble parents, the baby that changed absolutely everything.

Remember the UTA Trax guy? Good Samaritans among us, Part 2

"Not again!" I said pleadingly. "No!"

A couple weeks before, I had left my phone on a Trax train, so I already had PTSD about this. "I can't do this again," I thought. But really, what choice did I have? This time, I left not just my phone, but my entire purse, with my phone and all my cards.

I should point out that I love UTA employees, especially the early morning train host who rides between Lehi and Provo at 6:00 a.m. Her hame is Chris. She's probably in her late 70s(?) and just the nicest person. She is so wide awake and happy each morning, greeting people warmly, welcoming them onto the train. I've decided I wanna be her when I grow up. Twenty years from now, when they tell me I'm too old to teach English, I'm gonna be a train host. Like Chris! She has so much fun, and she doesn't have to wear one of those ugly hair nets like the old ladies at Costco do. Win/win.

But I digress. This past Tuesday, I left my purse on the Red Line train up at the U. I couldn't even connect to the internet because the U. has dual authentication, which requires me respond to a "push" to my phone. So I had to teach two classes with zero technology, and I had no idea what I was doing in either because I never check until I get there. (If you're wondering why that is, remember I'm teaching eight classes. It's all I can do to show up!)

When I was finally back on the train headed home and could connect to the internet, I texted Shulamith from my computer and told her to start calling my phone. That she did, and after many attempts, someone answered, a guy at the UTA Daybreak Station. He said he had my purse and would keep it there for me to come pick up that night.

Should have been easy peasy. Like last time. Except that my car battery had died that morning, and Shulamith had already jumped it twice for me at the Lehi Station, once at noon and once at 7:30 p.m. I didn't want her to have to come do it again, so I headed off to Daybreak to retrieve my purse, determined to leave my car running no matter what! I was barely out of the Lehi Station parking lot when my gasoline light came on. What else could possibly go wrong? Well just you wait.

I parked across the street from the small shelter where the UTA employees hang out and where my purse would certainly be. I left the car running and sprinted as fast as I could in the pitch dark to rescue my purse and drive home before my car ran out of gas. Inside the shelter was another awesome UTA employee, Aaron. Out of breath, I quickly recounted my sad story, and together we looked around the small space. No purse. "Are you sure they told you it would be here? At this station?" he asked. "Yes, yes, I'm positive." I had Shulamith's phone with me, so I tried calling my number. Immediately, we heard my ring tone coming from the giant, black, metal safe in the corner, with a secure padlock and the words "Lost and Found" painted in white across the front.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Aaron said. "Someone must have thrown it into the lost and found."

"Do you have a key?" I asked, in a tone of simultaneous hope and despair.

"No. Hardly anyone has a key to that. Not even our supervisors."

"Then how do I get my purse?"

"Every two or three days, a guy with a key comes around and collects whatever is inside. He takes everything to the main office up in Salt Lake City, so you'll probably be able to go pick up your purse by early next week."

<SIGH>

I was pretty distraught, and Aaron sensed my angst. "So your phone is in your purse and all your credit cards too?" he asked.

"Yes," I managed to whisper, on the verge of full-on ugly crying. "And my car is across the street, almost out of gas, with a dead battery. I just need my purse, so I can get some gas and go home."

Aaron looked me squarely in the eyes and said, "Okay, you didn't see me do this." He reached into the drop opening as far as his hand would go, trying desperately to grab my purse. No luck. 

"I'm sorry. I can't reach it."

"What if you turned it upside down?" I suggested.

"It's so heavy, though."

"What if I helped?" (Cuz, you know, I have so much upper body strength, haha.)

And together we turned that big safe on its side, and then upside down. "Plop!" We heard my purse fall, and instantly Aaron reached in and pulled it out.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to jump for joy. I wanted to hug Aaron. I did none of the above. Instead, I tried to express the depth of my thanks while bolting out the door and across the street to my running car. Then I drove to a gas station and prayed I wouldn't blow up if I added gas while the car was still running. Prayer works!

And that is the end of Part 2: "And who is my neighbor? Good Samaritans among us."

"And who is my neighbor?": Good Samaritans among us - Part 1

Wait! You waited for the scans to be read, so you could call me and tell me all is well?

Wait! You lifted a huge, metal safe and risked injury to your back by turning it upside down, so you could reach deep inside it and grab my purse? 

Who are these people? Honestly, I don't know. The first is a radiologic technologist, and the second is a UTA Trax employee. Strangers to me, really.

Yet both showed me what grace looks like. A friend posted a meme recently that pointed out how when the lawyer asked Jesus "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus told the well-known story of "The Good Samaritan." In it, Jesus does not mention the Samaritan praying for the injured man. He does not mention him preaching to the man or quoting scripture, or taking him to church. (Not to imply that these aren't good options; I'm sure Jesus would approve of all of them.) But in this story, the Samaritan stops and helps the man, tends to his wounds, finds him a safe place to stay with food to eat, and pays for it, even! The Samaritan walks the path of eternal life, rather than just talking about it.

And so it was with these two strangers.

Anyone who knows me well, is familiar with my crazy anxiety about terminal illness. So imagine how terrifying it is each year, when I have to do my annual exam, with its various scans and blood draws! One year, I worked myself into such a fit that my blood pressure, usually lower than average, rose to 180/70! Another time, I made myself so sick with worry while waiting for test results that I lost 6 lbs. Ain't anxiety grand?

The time for my yearly check-up crept up quickly. "Didn't I JUST do all this?" I asked my tribe (aka Shulamith, Eli, and Amanda). "Yes!" they all agreed. "It cannot be time to go through this again." But it was. So I braved up, as I do every year, and scheduled the appointments. When I arrived for my mammogram, I was noticeably anxious, and the tech asked me if I was okay. I briefly explained my stupid anxiety disorder; she responded with kindness, care, and zero judgment. 

"Okay, let's gets this done, so you can get out of here." She was careful and precise in her work, making sure she didn't need to repeat any of the scans, and it was over in about 10 minutes.

"We're done! Now you can relax."

"Oh I won't relax until that letter comes in the mail, telling me everything is fine."

She thought for a moment and then explained, "The scans will be read today, and they will call you within two days if anything concerning shows up. So if you haven't received a call by the end of the day Thursday, you can stop worrying."

"Oh, that helps so much, thank you! I only have to feel like this for two days, rather than a whole week! You are amazing."

And with that, I quickly dressed and got the hell out of there because I hate those places so much! 

....but the story doesn't end there.

Late that afternoon, I received a call from an unknown number. I don't usually answer those, but for some reason I did. 

"Hi, this is Corrine from Lone Peak. I waited until your scans were read, so I could call you. I didn't want you to be sick or not sleep, even for two days. The scans are back, and everything is perfectly normal. Come back in a year."

Flooded with emotion, I could barely speak. I babbled something unintelligible and hung up. I mean who does this? Who offers this kind of care, so far beyond her job responsibilities, for a stranger!? Someone who walks the path of discipleship. Someone who loves like Jesus. A Good Samaritan among us. 

Because I know readers prefer shorter posts, I'll stop, but again, the story doesn't end there. There's still the UTA Trax guy. Stay tuned for Part 2....

Celebrating love!

Aren't weddings the best celebrations? Two people come together to publicly commit their lives to one another. Friends and family gather around them, hearts and hands open, to offer support and encouragement. Love fills the air, and everyone feels it. It's impossible not to embrace the hope and happiness of a newly married couple! 

So it was this past weekend, as I flew to Phoenix, along with Shulamith and her daughter Kennedy, to attend the wedding of my niece Carley and her fiancé, JaSon. It was a warm day, so very different from the cold we left in Utah. The outside ceremony was brief but meaningful, as Carley and JaSon each recited their own original vows, promising to be each other's strength, confidante, and respite from whatever life throws their way.

...and then the celebrating began. As the wedding party took photographs, the rest of us gathered in the reception area, where lovely floral arrangements, placed high above each table, decorated the room. For me, the best part was seeing my family, almost all of whom live in the Portland area, so I don't get to see them often. Several "relatives of relatives" I hadn't see in decades; it was delightful to catch up! At last, the glowing couple arrived and moved immediately to the center of the room for their first dance.

Dinner was next on the agenda, and it was for real the best wedding food I've ever eaten. Baked salmon, slow-roasted short ribs, creamy whipped potatoes, and white macaroni and cheese. So so delicious! (There was also some broccoli and cauliflower, which I'm sure lots of people liked, haha.) Dessert was miniature bundt cakes, and not just any bundt cakes, mind you, but Nothing Bundt Cakes! I may have eaten parts of three different ones as we passed them around our table.

A photo booth, along with the most beautiful sunset, created perfect lighting for pictures, so we took advantage of the opportunity. Here is a 4-generation shot of us Webster women: Claudette Webster, Terrianne Webster, Shulamith Webster, and Kennedy Webster-Monson:

And here are the OG Websters, other than my dad, who passed away years ago:

And finally, a photo booth shot of some wacky Websters and a few of their friends:

Celebrating love! So glad we were able to do just that this weekend. To Carley and JaSon: Happiness always!

And just like that...fall fell into November

Like many others, I love this season. Fall brings an abrupt end to hot summer weather (thank heavens!) in favor of a bit more rain to lift my soul. There's never enough rain, of course, but more is always better. It also means the holiday season is in reach, and (this year), that my wild ride through the semester shows some promise of ending. I have never taught eight classes in one semester. I hope I never do it again. The intensity of this much work is hard to describe, and combined with another stressful situation that has my mind constantly ruminating, the result is a weird brain fog. 

But instead of dwelling on all that, let's relive October highlights!

October began as it always does with General Conference weekend, which I already wrote about here.

Next was our annual visit to Gardner Village to see the witches! Shulamith and I go every year, but this was the first time Eli, Amanda, and Jane joined, and it was double the fun:

Then came my birthday. The night before, a few of my favorite people went with me to the brand new Saratoga Springs Temple to do proxy sealings. Thank you so much, Shulamith, Eli, and Amanda! It was the best night. After quick food at Chipolte, we entered the temple, immediately stunned by its beauty. What a perfect "Birthday Eve" celebration, the best gift of all to be in the temple with these three:

The next night, my actual birthday, we went to The Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner with most of the family. This place fills me with nostalgia; I went to the Portland location dozens of times as a kid, a favorite of my parents and grandparents. This time, though, I bravely sat surrounded by Isaiah, Seth, and Mathew. If you know these three, you understand the twists and turns the conversation might take. For better or worse, they did not disappoint, and I laughed my way through spaghetti with clam sauce and garlic mizithra cheese, followed by Costco chocolate cake with spumoni ice cream. It was pretty much perfection. 

If that wasn't enough partying, the very next night was Eli and Amanda's annual Halloween bash. From mummy wraps to marshmallow tossing, pictures reveal it best:

(#twins)

(That one time Matt put Jane in a tree.)

 

And finally, Halloween! By this point, we were all tired, but ready to finish out the month in style. Shulamith and Eli both had serious activities going on at their respective elementary schools. This is Utah, after all. They LOVE Halloween here. Shulmith's kinder team chose a Peter Pan theme, and Shulamith was the cutest "Wendy" ever!

I crashed her party and helped one of her five parent volunteers with pumpkin volcanoes!  It was so cool, and her little babies loved it. 

Eli's third grade team went back in time to replicate the OG Snow White movie. Isn't Eli the handsomest of handsome princes in all history?

Halloween night felt anti-climactic after all this, but Shulamith's kids managed to gather pillowcases full of candy, while Jane made her first real attempt at trick-or-treating. Her comment on most of the houses we visited: "Spooky house!"

And just like that....fall fell into November. Let the Christmas music begin!

Who Won Conference?

No, General Conference it not a competition. However, people who know that I always watch all the sessions often ask me what my favorite talks were. This time around was no exception, though it took me a minute to settle on my top three. But settle I did, and now I'll share!

3rd Favorite 

Elder Ulisses Soares closed out the Saturday Evening session of Conference with a lovely talk that focused on respect and dignity for all God's children. He encouraged us to spread that respect across all borders to everyone, everywhere, regardless of circumstances. He spoke of how it requires individual effort to build those necessary bridges of understanding. Those who speak, look, act, or live differently than us should not be judged but rather loved and welcomed! There is no place for prejudice in the community of Saints.

But how do we live this principle when our very humanness leaves us quick to judge and exclude? Elder Soares said the answer is to look with the Savior's eyes. Since we are all "fellow travelers" through mortality and all imperfect, we must celebrate our differences and not criticize others; we must seek to see others as Jesus does. He analogized God's family on earth to a large waterfall. We all originate from God, but we travel in different directions as we find our way home. And through these travels, we are blessed by our diversity.

Finally, he reminded us that we re all equal before God and have the same eternal possibilities. Yes!!!

2nd Favorite

Robert M. Daines of the Seventy spoke in the first session Saturday morning about how to "see" Jesus in all we do. We follow Jesus, not a formula, not just a set of rigid rules, by which we are measured. If all we see are rules, Elder Daines suggests that perhaps we are blind to God's redeeming, transforming love. Our covenants are, instead, about relationships, with our Heavenly Parents, with our Savior, and with each other.

He spoke of the pitfall of trying to earn the Savior's love. Instead, he taught, our goal is to "shape our lives to His perfect love." Bravo! We already have His love, and we couldn't possibly earn it, even if we needed to. The Good News is... we don't! Instead, we choose to live in response to that love, that radical grace, that transformative power of sacred covenants. Woot!

Who Won Conference?

Sister Tamara Runia, First Counselor in the Young Women’s General Presidency gets my vote for the weekend. Her words offered so much hope to a world burdened with so much pain. Mortality is clearly not for wimps! But Sister Runia taught us that because of Christ, it all works out. It's all gonna be okay. She suggests that we choose hope over despair, hope in our Creator!

Step back, she admonished, and see the bigger picture. Eternity is a long time. Let's see our kids [and everyone!] through the "lens of love!" Everybody needs a cheerleader, she explained, so why not be that for those we love. Tell them just how loved they are. Tell them we love them more than anything. Forever. Just as our kids can't mistake their way out of Jesus's love, make sure they know they also can't mistake their way out of ours.

She went on to remind us that "The Savior can turn any nightmare into a blessing through His atonement." But it's not our job to judge or condemn. We are to love fully, and leave God's work to God. She called us "shared companions" on this earthy journey. How much do you love that? She concluded by promising that we can shine forth Christ's love to everyone because everything is going to turn out so much better than we think.

Ahhh, what a hopeful message! With Sister Runia and President Emily Belle Freeman, the young women of the Church are, indeed, in fabulous hands!

There's my list. Until April, friends...

Do you cheat at Wordle?

Let me say, unequivocally, that I do not. Cheat at Wordle.

For those unfamiliar with it....wait! Is there really anyone who is unfamiliar with Wordle? Just in case, Wordle is a game that you play once a day. You try to guess a 5-letter word in six tries. Everyone has the same word, so I suppose if you wanted to, you could look up the answer each day before you play. But why would anyone do that? What would be the point?

However, my family seems to think I do. To be fair, they probably think this because I am so terrible at games. I always lose. You can add games to the long list of things I suck at. My family feels comfortable when I lose Wordle. They're used to it. I always lose. But oddly, I'm not as bad at Wordle as I am at other games. Sometimes I win. And they can't handle it. 

For example about a week ago. Well, here's the screenshot of our group Wordle thread, so you can see what happened. 

Shulamith played. Then she left a clue. (A while back, we started leaving clues after we play for the others who haven't played yet. I stopped doing this because I usually play before anyone else, so I never got any clues, and everyone else kept winning!). Anyway, Shulamith played, and then left the following clue: "I should have put on my thinking cap for this one."

I literally read her clue, logged into Wordle, and typed the correct answer in one try: beret. It was the first word that popped into my head. Well, "hat" was the first word I thought of, but "hat" has only three letters. 

Anyway, suddenly the text tread lit up with everyone accusing me of cheating. MY OWN FAMILY! May I share copy/pastes of some of their comments? You'll be stunned!

Eli: You definitely cheated, Mom. No one thinks of that word from "thinking cap."

I protested: "I literally saw her clue, opened Wordle, and typed the answer."

Eli: Still don't believe you...

Shulamith: But it doesn't work like that with this word.

Amanda: Yeah, you 100% cheated.

The next day, it took me six tries, the worst you can do and still not fail.

Me: Isn't anybody gonna accuse me of cheating today?

Eli: I'll let ya slide today...or maybe you purposely got 6 to look innocent...

Amanda: Oh for sure. She's trying to take the heat off of her. 

Seriously? 

Another day I got the word in three tries.

Eli: So Mom cheated, right?

Shulamith: She only cheats on hard words like "beret."

MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD (plus one who isn't, but it feels like she is). 

So I ask you again, my friends (excluding these three people mentioned above): Do you cheat at Wordle?

Because I definitely do not.

If I can grade 18 essays by Saturday at 10:00 a.m.......

 If I can grade 18 essays before Saturday at 10:00 a.m., I can take most of the weekend off to watch General Conference. Eighteen is a lot, though. Even if I could do half by then, I could maybe squeeze in the other nine before, between, and after the sessions, throughout the weekend. I hope that works.

I really love General Conference. It's partly because I appreciate brilliant rhetoric and solid writing, which we get lots of in General Conference talks. Rarely are there wordy or awkward sentence constructions, and almost never a grammatical error. I say "almost" because this one time several years ago, a speaker led his talk with a dangling modifier. I was stunned. The editors for Conference talks are fabulous, but they somehow missed this glaring dangling modifier. 

Memories of past General Conferences are numerous. I think back to the days when we had to go to the church building to watch. There was a guy in our stake in Washington who bought tons of candy, which he set out in a large bowl in the library. Then he watched the sessions on one of the TVs and handed out candy to everyone who passed by. I think his name was Dave. I remember grabbing a handful of candy, then going to the mother's lounge to nurse Seth and promptly falling asleep. I was SO sleep deprived! It was the Sunday afternoon session, and I missed Elder Maxwell's talk. I had waited all weekend for his eloquent discourse. Back then, the talks weren't available on the Internet hours after they were given; we had to wait for them to be published in the following month's Ensign, and read them. I was so bummed.

By the time we moved to Billings in 2004, we could watch General Conference on TV in our own homes. Pajama church for the win! It was a game changer. That said, now I had the task of bribing kids and teens to watch. Home offered many distractions. Bribery included all sorts of unhealthy treats, stuff I'd never bring into my house on any other day. I would hide these snacks in my room and bring them out, one at a time, throughout the two days. As they grew older, the kids began making requests for specific "Conference food." 

You'd think all this might be long over, since Seth moved out two years ago to live in Orem and attend UVU. But no. I'll have you know that I am sharply proficient at living in denial and pretending my kids are all still here. I do it every day. And yes, I absolutely still shop for all the Conference treats. And send everyone pictures of what I buy. And guess what? They still come! Not always for every session, of course, but throughout the weekend, they show up, watch a session with me, and feast on Twinkies, Pringles, Red Vines, and Oreos. If they're lucky, I'll even drive to Sandy early Saturday morning, wait in the long line, (other moms must do this too?) to buy a couple dozen Krispy Kremes. 

(By the end, we all feel nearly dead from the sugar highs and lows, but come on....it's only twice a year.)

Before closing this pre-Conference muse, and lest anyone might wonder, it is not only the solid writing and rhetoric that I love about General Conference (though I do love that!). Like many others, I rejoice to hear the often-inspired words from those in general leadership positions in my church. There are many methods recommended to members as they prepare to hear these messages. I sometimes write down questions about issues I'm pondering or things I don't understand. I study and prep the "Come Follow Me" lesson for the week, even though we don't have church on Conference weekend. Most importantly, I pray that some of the talks will lead me to an increased understanding of Christ's love for every person. 

Especially this time around, when the past two weeks I've been "careful and troubled about many things" (Luke 10:42), I will pour all that out at Jesus' feet, and pray that something in one of the messages will resonate with me and bring comfort and healing. Will I relate to and agree with every word spoken in the 10 hours of talks? Of course not! But if just one idea brings new light, if just one perspective offers a path toward "truthier truth," then I will feel blessed.  

I always do.

This is the most beautiful car I've ever seen!

We have an ironic situation in our family. The people who are under 6'3" (Shulamith, Eli, Amanda, and I) like to drive larger vehicles, such as minivans or SUVs. And the people who are over 6'3" (Isaiah, Seth, Luke, and Gerald) like to stuff themselves into the tiniest, subcompact cars they can find. While we are driving around comfortably with plenty of room, the three of them barely fit in their cars, their heads with but a fraction of an inch to spare. I'm pretty sure Isaiah's lovely curls graze the top of his Kia Rio!

As you may remember, recently, I've developed a problem with cars. They break. They crash. They suck! This was not always the case. My first minivan, a 1990 Dodge Caravan, we purchased when I was pregnant with Isaiah, so we could bring him home from the hospital since our car at the time accommodated only our then small family of four. I drove that van for 15 years, and Isaiah was quick to inform everyone that "learning to drive the same vehicle your parents used to transport you home from the hospital is just wrong!"

Fifteen years driving the same car. No crashes. No transmission failures. No broken emergency brakes (this one I managed to accomplish while driving Shulamith's minivan, but it still counts). 

What happened??? 

I have no idea. Truly, I'm baffled.

But here I am, yet again, in a rental. It took three days to get it. The dealership that will replace my failed transmission told me it was Chrysler Care who needed to provide me a rental. Chrysler Care told me it was the responsibility of the dealership. Back and forth I went. For three days. Finally, this past Monday, a miracle occurred (and it really was!). Chrysler Care assumed responsibility for providing the rental. They told me I could go rent a car as long as it was no more than $65/day, and they would reimburse me. 

Shulamith immediately called Enterprise, and the only car they had to meet that qualification was a tiny Nissan Versa. Don't get me wrong. It's a fine car. Just small. In fact, it would be the perfect car for Isaiah, Seth, Luke, or Gerald. But me? Not so much. I'm a minivan mom through and through, and I absolutely need all that space.

Still, at the end of this very sucky week, where absolutely everything sucks, my job still requires me to drive to three college campuses in three locations nowhere near one another. So for today, though I'd never buy it, at this moment, this is the most beautiful car I've ever seen.

"Point in the direction you're going to go!"

"Get on the train going NORTH. Toward Ogden. NOT Provo," Shulamith directed, as she pointed in the direction of north. "Point in the direction you're going to go," she continued. I pointed the same way she did. North. Once, just once, when we lived up in Sandy, I might have boarded the blue line Trax going north instead of south and wound up all the way downtown before I noticed. It's fine.

Today, she dropped me off at the Draper FrontRunner station, and I headed up to the U. for my afternoon classes. It had already been a sucky day, a sucky week really. I was dealing with some disappointing and emotionally triggering news. My family is totally fine, so don't worry; it is just some personal business that left me feeling hurt and sad. 

And then!

Last night, after driving home from a meeting at SLCC, I stopped at Maverik to grab a Diet Coke. (FYI, soon there will be a brand new 7-Eleven on the corner of Redwood and Porter Rockwell, right near our house! My level of excitement over this is startling, even to me.) When I returned to my car to drive home, I noticed it was behaving strangely. It made a loud noice when I accelerated, then wouldn't accelerate at all until I stopped, turned off the engine, and restarted it. 

"For real?" I thought. My car is a 2019 with just 37,000 miles. This should NOT be happening, When I finally got home, I drove to Shulamith and made her come drive with me around our block, "This is really bad," she said. 

She was right. First thing this morning, I braved the 5-minute drive to our favorite mechanic here in Bluffdale. He didn't even need to look at my car to know what was wrong. Just hearing the noice as I coasted into the shop, he said "That's the transmission." He's been repairing cars since 1969, so his level of ethos is pretty strong. They did the normal tests, and sure enough, my transmission is trash. On my nearly new car. Awesome.

I was already in a "mad at the world" frame of mind, and this didn't help, but my awesome mechanic assured me that power train stuff like this should still be under warranty. Dodge should replace my transmission for free. Really?? Well cool.

I spent the rest of the morning on the phone with Chrysler Customer Care, the Dodge service department, the towing company, and my mechanic. The Dodge dealership ordered a towing company to tow the car from the repair shop to their service department up in Sandy. That's where it is now, and it may be mid-October before they have time to look at it. Meanwhile, Dodge has promised to give me a rental car until this is all resolved. 

Rental cars, though. Like when I get in car crashes. That's how I'm feeling. Like I got in another car crash. Except I didn't. "You just have super bad luck," Shulamith's friend Bridget commented this evening as we sat in a park after I got back from the U. I've never thought of myself as a person who has bad luck, but where cars are concerned, I guess she's right.

Still, some good things happened today, after a crappy week. I made it all the way to the U. and back on all the right trains without getting lost. The weather was cool and breezy. I got to see more of the beautiful U. of U. campus as I walked to and from the Trax station. I received an entire set of writing assignments without one student using that horrific ChatGPT. I felt the Savior's presence right beside me through it all.

So I wish all of you a glorious weekend! Point in the direction you're going to go. You're far more likely to get there if you do.

"Were you consistent?" Mr. Gay wanted to know.

"Were you consistent?" my Honor's English teacher, Mr. Gay, asked me during the first week of my senior year of high school. He had asked me to T.A. for him, and he was teaching me how to evaluate and grade student writing from his freshman English classes. He gave me a set of essays to score, and when I finished and returned them, he read only the one on top. "This looks good," he said. "If you were consistent with all the others, then I don't need to look at them. Were you consistent?"

In that moment, I realized two things: (1) I had no idea if I'd been consistent in my scoring of those papers, and (2) that one day I would teach English professionally. I'm sure back then I was thinking high school, but thank heavens (!) at some point thereafter, I had a better idea. 

Education is a core value in our family. We were committed to helping our kids financially through their undergraduate degrees, and next May, our fifth and final kid will complete his bachelor's (Go, Seth!). So far, only Luke has moved on to earn a graduate degree (Ph.D in psychology), but I think both Shulamith and Eli will pursue master's degrees at some point, and Seth will for sure need grad school of some sort.

Still, I wouldn't have predicted that so many of us would remain in fields related to education. This week, five of us returned for the 2023-2024 school year!

As mentioned above, Seth began his senior year at Utah Valley University, completing a B.S. degree in sociology and criminal justice.

Eli returned to Ridge View Elementary, teaching 3rd grade. He says the kids are small! (Compared to his 4th graders last year.)

Shulamith made a roller coaster jump from teaching part time at Salt Lake Community College the past few years to teaching half-day kindergarten at her kids' elementary school. She teaches a morning class and is home by 12:30, and all three of her kids are so happy she's at their school.

I don't have a "Back-to-School" picture of him, but Dr. Luke Erichsen continues in his position as a school psychologist for the Maryland School District. 

And I'm still chillin' with my adjunct gig, teaching freshman writing courses at Utah Valley University, Salt Lake Community College, and (for the first time) The University of Utah! It's way too many classes this time around, but if I don't die, I'll try to pare that down spring semester.

Here's to the 2023-2024 academic year, everyone! I'm predicting awesomeness for all of us.

(One final note: Mr. Gay passed away four years ago at age 90. If you're watching from above, Mr. Gay, know that you were my mentor and hero as an English teacher, and to this day, I try hard to be consistent in my grading.)

The bliss of clean!

My house hasn't been clean since mid-June when summer semester began. "Your house is always clean," people like to tell me. But no. Not true. My house always looks clean because I keep it tidy. There is never clutter. As the saying goes, "A place for everything, and everything in its place." And I spot clean constantly. Ten minutes before I have to leave for class? What can I clean in ten minutes? Five minutes until I'm meeting Shulamith outside for a walk? What can I clean in five minutes? Microwave has three minutes left? What can I clean in three minutes? It works great, and my house always looks clean.

But that doesn't mean it is.

During the semester, I don't have the time or energy to deep clean regularly, which is what is needed. 

Oh how I wish I didn't need quite as much sleep. Or that I could grade papers faster. Or that I didn't teach so many classes. Or something. Because every semester, I get progressively sadder, as the weeks pass and my house deteriorates. 

I am now in the middle of my three-week break between summer and fall semesters. Let the deep cleaning begin! So far I have dusted every inch of furniture, as well as baseboards, ceiling fans and vents, hand railings, and light fixtures. I've vacuumed and mopped all the floors, scrubbed the kitchen and all four bathrooms, and cleaned out those gross window sill tracks in every room. Still to do: clean and sweep garage and back patio area, rent a power washer to wash the outside of house, and hire someone to wash windows. 

Already, my mood and overall well-being are improving. It's hard to describe how strong the positive correlation is between the cleanliness of my house and the peace of my soul. A week from today my semester at the U. of Utah begins, and two days later, both UVU and SLCC as well. The slow but steady deterioration will commence. 

But I won't think about that right now. Not today. Today I'm gonna gaze at these dust-free baseboards, and take in the smell of a freshly-cleaned kitchen. Bask in the joy of sparkling glass shower doors and mirrors. Feel the clean floors beneath my feet. 

A week ago, in a moment of insanity, I agreed to teach two classes at the University of Utah this fall. (These are in addition to my three at UVU and three at SLCC.)

I may die.

But that's okay. Because today. Today... I live in the bliss of clean!