Would you like to walk about?

For the past 10 months, in addition to adjusting to Seth being on a mission in Paraguay, I've also been adjusting to being in a brand new ward. I really think it would have been easier not to face both these adjustments at almost exactly the same time, but no one asked my opinion. Now this new ward seems to have lots of traditions that date back all the way to the restoration, so we Sixth Ward transplants need to catch up. One such tradition is called the "Hostess Dinner," which happened a couple months ago. That was a good evening although I kept wanting to go sample the food from the other tables. I refrained.

Another tradition happens in the summer and is called the "Walk About." They put signs up all around the neighborhood, encouraging everyone to come out and, well, walk about. Then they ask three families to host. These families put up a "Stop" sign in their yards, set out some chairs, and have treats ready for people walking about. That sounds easy enough (WAY easier than hosting a table for the Hostess Dinner, coming up with a theme, decorating (eeek!), and planning food (double eeek!). So when the bishopric counselor emailed and asked me if we would be one of the hosts for the Walk About, I quickly agreed.

Then I thought, "Wait, what did I just agree to???"

You see, I love hosting people in our home. My annual Christmas cookie exchange is one of the highlights of my year, and I welcome other opportunities as well to share our home with friends. Our home, NOT our yard. In fact, whenever we're expecting guests, I pray they will just pull up to the house, look neither left nor right, and quickly make their way to the front door and inside. Why? Because my yard looks like crap. Always. It pretty much looks like the house is abandoned, and I'm not even kidding. I try so hard, but I'm not good at yard work, and I basically hate it, so yeah. It's terrible.

So just after I agreed to host this Walk About deal, it occurred to me that I just said yes, not to people coming to visit my house, no. I just said yes to people coming to visit my YARD! Ahhhhhhhhh. What was I thinking? Enter my favorites Eli and Amanda, who came to my rescue and tried to help. Amanda edged and weed-whacked like a mad woman, while Eli pulled weeds and clipped branches. I mowed the lawn and raked up foliage into the dumpster.

Truth, it still looks like crap, but slightly better crap.

The night of the Walk About it was a tad stormy. Wind blew, and at one point rain threatened to dampen (literally) my chairs, tables, and plates of brownies. But that didn't last long, and ultimately the event was lovely. Several families came by, some from the ward, others from the neighborhood and not members of our church. There were lots of hungry kids who liked brownies; good thing I made three pans. It was really such a nice time. No one mentioned my crappy yard, but then of course no one would. I didn't think about it too much either because there were so many nice folks to talk to.

I hear they do these Walk Abouts a couple more times during the summer, so if you live in the neighborhood and see the signs, I highly recommend you come.

Would you like to walk about?

Prepping food, wearing orange, and finding common ground

This past weekend was busy, way busier than I like. I have two friends who live all their days like this, crazy busy from start to finish. One is the head pastor of a protestant church, and the other works two, nearly full-time jobs. But me? Nope. I like my "down time" way too much. I very much enjoy doing absolutely nothing.

Occasionally, though, a weekend comes along that is jam-packed full of activity, and I think to myself, "This is what every day is like for Rebecca and Patty." They are truly awesome, by the way, both of them.

So Friday night I set up two crock pots full of food: El Pato chicken meat in one and teriyaki chicken in the other. Those cooked overnight, and were ready to bag up Saturday morning. Then I went to the store and bought stuff for spaghetti sauce and ground turkey taco meat. Back home, I cooked all that up, and the final result of all this was 10 family freezer meals and 11 individual frozen dinners. I really hate to cook, so this is huge, people.

Already on a serious path of productivity, I drove to DI and dropped off all the bags of clothes from the back of my car, then took my car through a car wash, vacuumed out the interior, wiped down every surface, and even spot cleaned the upholstery here and there. How impressed are you? Right?

By then it was time get ready for the adult session of stake conference, so I showered and got dressed and headed to Mac Grill for a quick dinner and chat with Amanda, who had only a couple tables at the time. Eli was working the expo line, so he couldn't really talk to me, but at least I could see him, and that's better than nothing.

The adult session was good; I got to hug so many people from our former ward. All of them asked about Seth! In the new ward, people don't know Seth, so of course they don't ask about him. Why would they? It was lovely to see so many friends.

I came back home and did school work until falling into a state of blissful sleep, which lasted the entire night, a definite victory, when all too often my stupid anxiety doesn't allow me a full night's sleep. Woke up Sunday morning feeling great; donned my only orange dress, in honor of National Gun Violence Awareness Weekend; and drove to the stake center an hour early for the general session because no, I can't handle the hard, folding chairs way back in the gym. Instead, I found a nice padded pew near the front, where I sat with Eli, who had been at an earlier leadership meeting, and worked on my gospel doctrine lesson for next week.

Both sessions of stake conference were enjoyable. Several young adults spoke Sunday morning, including Seth's good friend, Daniela! She is working to complete her mission papers, and Seth is super excited to find out where she goes. Another young man spoke, who had recently completed a service mission. His pure testimony was inspiring, and I was so grateful he was asked to speak.

Throughout the weekend, I was pulled into a discussion on social media about finding common ground with those whose opinions are different from ours, political perspectives in particular. (Wow, I didn't even plan that alliteration, but dang it works, huh?) As I participated in this discussion and thought about my many relationships with folks whose opinions differ from mine, in some cases, intensely, I was reminded how thankful I am for the ability to find common ground. There is always common ground. For example, there's the person whose comment on my post initiated this discussion. He and I agree on nothing related to politics, absolutely nothing. And yet! We both want the Toronto Raptors to crush those Warriors and send them right home. Common ground.

We are, every one of us, children of Heavenly Parents. And ultimately, what else really matters? Whose we are is far more significant than we can even imagine! That's what I thought about throughout this busy weekend as I spent Saturday prepping food. That's what I thought about Sunday as I wore my orange dress and remembered those who died so tragically, victims of preventable gun violence. And that's what I was taught in so many ways in stake conference. When we remember whose we are, we can always find common ground.

In Search of Dresses with Pockets

Have you ever noticed that most dresses don't have pockets? Me either. It never mattered. But suddenly, it has become urgent that I have dresses with pockets to wear the 1st and 3rd Sundays of each month.

I have a total of 37 dresses. Exactly two of them have pockets. (Aside: no judgment on the 37 dresses. I like clothes.)

As you may remember, last September we were transferred into a new ward. For quite a while, I didn't have a calling, and I happily wore my pocket-less dresses each week. A while back, though, I was called to teach Gospel Doctrine (hooray!), and now I need pockets.

Why? This new ward has several people with hearing difficulties, so they like teachers to use a microphone. The former teacher carried a hand-held mic and passed it back and forth, sort of "talk show host" style, but my teaching mode just doesn't vibe with worrying about a microphone. So, one very kind Sunday School President and one equally kind Bishopric Counselor worked it out for the ward to purchase a clip-on, cordless mic setup. It wasn't easy for them, and I am so, so grateful. The microphone part clips onto my collar and attaches to a little box deal that needs to go in my pocket.

Except only two of my dresses have pockets.

A few other dresses look decent with my long, beige, pocketed cardigan over the top, so that's worked a couple times. But this past week, I was in full-on clothes crisis mode, trying to figure out what to wear! Church starts at 9:00, and by 8:50 I was still in my underwear shouting, "There MUST be more dresses here with pockets!"

But no.

With the weather warming, I probably won't even want to wear the cardigan, and no, I don't want to wear the same two dresses every 1st and 3rd Sunday. Is a shopping trip in order? In search of dresses with pockets? Granted, I don't necessarily need any new dresses, but desperate times and all that.

So if you're ever browsing online or wandering through a clothing store and happen upon a cute dress with pockets, ping me. I'll be forever grateful.