Black Friday, Reimagined!

And, no, we don't have COVID. I thought you might think that because we are on the couch covered with blankets. Don't worry. We are just fine. And we want to keep it that way. Therefore, after 20+ years of Black Friday shopping, we had to reimagine this day and make it joyful despite the unusual circumstances. Every year, we get up early, drive through Starbuck's for hot chocolate, and hit the stores. We love the crowds, the lines, the race to get the best sales; it's a total adrenaline rush! We generally begin at Target, but ultimately hit Walmart, Old Navy, sometimes Kohl's, and both Fashion Place and South Towne malls before returning home, exhausted, but so happy for all we accomplished.

Let me introduce you to Black Friday, reimagined.

We still got up early, but this time we drove through a place called Beans and Brews Coffee House, which is about the only eating establishment anywhere near us. I used to tell Shulamith she lived in the "wilderness," but now we really do. We got our hot chocolate, stopped by Maverick for Diet Coke, and returned to my new house to begin our "couch shopping."

...oh, and all that cash you see in our hands? Well, let me just tell you about that. A little over a year ago, I was sitting at our ward's Halloween party, chatting with a few people, when Lena asked Kelly if she had started her Christmas shopping. Kelly replied, "No, but I've been stashing away cash all year for Christmas presents, so I'm good to start." What a wonderful idea, I thought to myself! I texted Shulamith right away, and we decided to follow Kelly's plan. Every time we got paid, we drove through the bank and withdrew a bit of cash, all of which I kept in envelopes in my files. And today, we got to spend all that cash on presents for our families, with zero financial stress. Woo.

We had lists from all the sibs pulled up on our computers, and we systematically jumped from one person to the next, carefully choosing items we hope they will love. It was like a well-oiled machine, I tell ya; you should be duly impressed. Shulamith is finished shopping for her kids and all her siblings. I'm finished with three of my five kids, a wonderful start.

Suddenly, it was noon. We had to hurry back to Sandy to take care of the dogs, who are still living there (another story for another time), and then order a Christmas tree because I was determined not to deal with this one ever again! Then we grabbed some quick takeout from Cafe Rio and headed back to Bluffdale to walk because when you sit on a couch all morning, you don't take many steps. My count was at like 1,300, woefully low for noon, so we circled our new neighborhood, stopping briefly at Shulamith's house to see the awesome progress being made, and finished with 6,500 steps.

I hope and pray that next year, we are back out there among the crowds. I pray that this virus has been sufficiently controlled through an effective vaccine and responsible behavior before that vaccine is available, so we can be near others without fear. I look forward to that time with a longing I can barely describe.

Meanwhile, I will be patient and grateful. As President Nelson asked us a week ago to flood the Internet and social media with gratitude, #givethanks, I will give thanks for my health; my family; my richly blessed life; and even for Black Friday, reimagined.

Moving sucks, but free food helps!

"If you want to know where the Websters live, stand on the corner and wait for the moving truck to come by and follow it." This is a direct quote from a long-time friend of my original family, meant to be humorous with no offense intended, and none was taken. We did move a lot. I've speculated that this might be because my mom missed her true calling as an interior design artist. Which she definitely did. Guys, I'm not even kidding. I grew up in a house, well 21 houses to be exact, all of which looked like they belonged in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine, and her current house still looks like that. So I wonder if once she arranged the furniture in as many different configurations as possible, then decorated perfectly around each new arrangement, she wanted to move, so she could begin the creative process all over? Definitely possible.

I inherited neither her incredible talent for home design, nor her zest for moving. I couldn't decorate my way out of a paper bag, and my house always looks somewhat "vacant?" Also, I hate moving! So much. So I don't do it, unless it's absolutely necessary, like those times we've relocated to an entirely different state.

Until now. We are in the process of moving from our current home in Sandy to a new house in Bluffdale, about 10 miles south. How's it going, you ask? Ugh! I can't think of a single thing I enjoy about this process. It is so hard and overwhelming. I'm taking a break this afternoon to blog; this is for the benefit of my sanity and my family's well-being. But Seth is going with me to take yet another load this evening.

Because our new home is literally "new," there are extra tasks, beyond getting every last item from one house to the other. For example, our beautiful kitchen backsplash needs to be sealed, as does the floor of the garage and the driveway. Amanda, whose skillset never ceases to amaze me, is handling both those projects. Also, I had to meet with a guy to discuss window treatments. Really, though. Picture that in your mind. "Do you prefer the almond cream or the coconut sand?" Honestly, they look exactly the same. "Do you want blackout blinds or filter?" I don't have the slightest idea. "Do you want fabric-covered valances or the modern uncovered look?" Okay, shoot me now!!!

Meanwhile, Shulamith and I make multiple trips back and forth daily, hauling vans full of crap. Why do we have so much stuff? I am the polar opposite of a hoarder, and yet you should see the pile of junk out on the road in front of our house. Fortunately, the city's biannual curbside pickup is this week! 

Sorry if I sound like I'm whining. I am. I'm tired of all of it, truth be told, both the physical effort required and the many mental chores like transferring utilities, getting the mailbox key, joining the HOA, buying a water softener, ordering a fence, dealing with contractors who are supposed to be finishing our basement but who are now a full week late in starting, and did I mention those dang window treatments?

However, when life begins to feel impossible, take heart. There is always food. And sometimes it's free. Trust me; nothing tastes better than free food. The universe wrapped its arms around me this past week with two such opportunities. After closing all summer for an extensive remodel, the Chick-fil-A where Seth works had its grand reopening Thursday, and on Tuesday, they gave free meals to employees' families. Then Saturday, Nothing Bundt Cakes opened a new location in Taylorsville and offered customers free confetti bundtlets! So Tuesday, Shulamith, Isaiah, and I got free Chick-fil-A meals (and we didn't even have to dress like cows), and Saturday, I got a yummy bundt cake.

It's been a long process, and we still have tons left to do. I'm exhausted almost all the time, and moving totally sucks, but free food most definitely helps.

"No Sleep Till 270!"

Sometimes timing is perfection. Such was the case Friday afternoon, when Luke, Shulamith, and Isaiah pulled into Washington D.C. just as the state of Pennsylvania was called for Biden. Honking horns and cheers of joy filled the streets as people celebrated the end of an era of despair, frustration, and pain. In Isaiah's words, "There was jubilation, and it was awesome to be part of it!" 

Early Friday morning, Shulamith and Isaiah flew to Maryland to visit their brother Luke. When they planned this trip, they knew it would fall just three days after the presidential election; however, they had no idea it would take all three of those days to count all the votes and determine the winner.

It had been a long three days that began Tuesday night, as polls closed around the country. As the hours passed and Trump was showing early leads in some swing states, the mood at our house grew quietly anxious as everyone was glued to the TV but also to various maps and predictions on his or her own personal device:

Isaiah is the most politically informed person I know, so when he's nervous, I'm nervous. He was nervous. He had all the swing states' electoral votes in mind, as he calculated the different paths that would move Vice President Biden to the needed 270. By 11:00 p.m., he still felt "okay" about things, though not nearly as confident as he had been earlier. I was exhausted. I wanted to stay up and watch, but I also needed to sleep, so I told Isaiah to text me any important developments, and I went to bed.

Isaiah's election marathon would continue for the next three days, with only brief sleep periods here and there. Each night, he waited up for additional states to turn blue, his motto: "No sleep till 270!" And that 270 came as he and his sister and brother pulled into Washington D.C. Friday afternoon!

I struggle to put words to my feelings during those three, long days of waiting. I couldn't imagine enduring four more years of the current president, and yet that was an undeniably real possibility. At one point I told Isaiah, "If this thing goes bad, I want to hear it from you, not from someone else or from social media, so please tell me right away." He said he would, and that helped a little. Each morning, things looked more hopeful than the day before, but you know me: always glass half empty. I kept waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop. 

It didn't. I am so relieved. And grateful. And just really, really happy!

I may or may not have cried as I watched both speeches last night. Kamala didn't just break that glass ceiling; she freakin' shattered it to pieces! When I was a little girl, the idea of a female vice president was unheard of! Some say it doesn't matter, but I disagree. It matters. Wearing a lovely white suit as a tribute to women's suffrage, Vice President-elect Harris declared, "I may be the first, but won't be the last." 

President-elect Biden faces unique challenges, and he won't meet them perfectly. He will make mistakes. He will almost certainly make decisions I disagree with. But dang. I...we...will once again have a president whom we can respect as a decent human being, one who isn't an embarrassment to our nation throughout the world, one who cares about someone other than himself. 

Rest easy, my friends. A new day lies before us, and there is so much hope. 

(P.S. Get some sleep, Isaiah!)