Showing Off Just a Little

 I could be really stressed right now, but I'm not. For some reason, I have developed the ability to look at all my responsibilities, break them down into small chunks of action, tick them off one by one, and move forward on a fairly even emotional keel. 

This welcome zen mentality might be attributable to the fact that my hormones are a little more stabilized. After a couple weeks, the evening primrose oil capsules I started taking knocked out all of the hot flashes entirely; where I was once suffering between fifteen and twenty intense hot flashes in a twenty-four hour period, I now cannot remember the last time I had one. I can once more enjoy hotter-than-the-surface-of-the-sun showers, I'm not cycling between pulling on and tossing off the blankets all night, and I haven't needed to whip out my little battery-operated portable fan to cool my sweating face in a very long time. While I wasn't having uncontrollable mood swings before (thank goodness I have at least been spared that peri-menopausal indignity!), I was almost always quietly floundering under a certain sense of doom and overwhelm. To now feel like I have the ability to handle just about anything thrown at me feels really, really good. It wasn't until I realized how calm I feel now that I realized how internally frantic I had felt only just recently.

At work, things are lovely--but they always have been. I love my job and the people I work with, but perhaps my newfound peace has helped me be more myself. I'm a little looser, a little more playful, a little less formal. I have stopped worrying about their perceptions of me while I continue to treat them with kindness and sisterly familiarity. I feel like I've finally stepped fully into the bond that the faculty share. Something has gelled in that arena that wasn't gelled before, even if we all got along just fine since the beginning. I can make them laugh now, and I am only ever funny when I am completely comfortable in my environment. I make Kim laugh so hard that he tells me I should be a standup comedian. Don't worry, I know my limits, and making a sociable, fun-loving guy from my generation laugh doesn't mean I'm the next Shayne Smith. It's just nice to feel so comfortable. I've even made the Millenials with their Millenial brand of humor, Skyler and Tanner, laugh a few times, which is a true accomplishment. 

The students are also more comfortable with me. Many of them make a special effort to come and speak to me or just say hello or good-bye. Some of them ask me for advice and actually listen to me. 

But now I'm just showing off, as my husband says.

Work is one thing. My duties at work are always neatly resolved, and I don't live with any of my co-workers or the students, which would make things more complicated. Work is tidy. Work is solvable. Everything else in life, however, isn't always neatly resolved and tucked away in a binder or file.

For example, my mother-in-law gets her second chemo treatment on Monday. She was suffering from unrelieved agonizing pain and extreme nausea, which I think even the strongest person would find demoralizing. She was in so much agony that she was ready to be done with it all and was on the verge of calling in end-of-life hospice care just to get the strongest pain relief possible, consequences be damned. Fortunately, her doctor was willing to try something experimental and injected cortisone into the schwannoma that has been growing in her spinal nerve sheath. 

A schwannoma is a benign tumor that grows in nerve sheaths, and the pain this tumor created earlier this year was what originally spurred MIL to keep going to doctors until they found and diagnosed her with the schannoma and then the metastasizing ovarian cancer, which, without the pain she was experiencing, might have been overlooked entirely until it was too late. The cortisone shots stopped the pain, hallelujah! MIL is still feeling extremely nauseated, and there is nothing they have found that can stop that, and she is also depressed and tired, but she isn't as fatalistic as she was before. Hopefully, the chemo shrinks the tumors, which will then be removed in surgery, followed by a few more rounds of chemo to finish off the smaller tumors. 

MIL and FIL have airplane tickets back home to Indiana on December 30, after which she will continue with treatment in the comfort of her own home because her health insurance will then be in Indiana. She will be so happy to see her dogs and cats again.

In other messy news, my parents, both fully vaccinated, are currently in quarantine because they tested positive for Covid. Fortunately, they haven't been very ill even though they are in their 70s. They haven't felt well, and they're very tired, but they haven't been dangerously sick, for which I am very grateful. 

Happy news: Sian is into her third trimester of pregnancy with my new little GRANDSON! Did I mention that she's pregnant with a boy? She's tired and slightly nauseated, but the baby is growing perfectly and Sian has had no symptoms of preeclampsia. We all hope that she will be able to take this little guy home with her from the hospital with no NICU stays. 

Speaking of preemies, my grandson, Tyler, is three and amazing. Of course he is! He's his mamma's and daddy's boy, and they are both brilliant. Tyler is articulate, kind, has a wonderful imagination, and knows all of his letters--both uppercase and lowercase. Most importantly of all, he loves his Nanna and always runs to give me hugs when I see him. 

Sian's husband, Nathan, is graduating with his bachelors in Computer Science next week and will begin his new job at Goldman Sachs right after graduation. Sian and Nathan moved out of the married student housing at the university and found a wonderful three-bedroom town home a little closer to The Big City. Sian is enjoying having a real kitchen (counter space! cupboards! a pantry!) and Tyler is enjoying having his own room with a big boy bed and playing in the little yard. Nathan is taking very good care of his pregnant wife while studying for his finals next week.

I'm not ignoring my other children or the long list of crazy stuff that has happened recently, but this post is long enough. My other children are doing well, however, and are having their own little successes in life. I will talk more of them next time.

For now, this cool cat is signing out.

Mortality

 As a commenter on a YouTube video put it, "It's starting to get a little weird. For the first time in history, a medicine's ineffectiveness is being blamed on those who refuse to take it."

Things are weird. But the weirdness of things is not what I want to say today. Today I want to talk about my mother-in-law.

As you know, my in-laws recently moved from just down the street from us here in our burg all the way to Indiana. While it was an excellent financial move for them, that wasn't why they did it. They picked up and moved from a place they loved because they both one day felt very strongly that the Lord was telling them to do so. The urgency was surprising, and they didn't know why they had to move, and the entire move was horrendous because it was done in such a short span of time with so much uncertainty. In the end, however, everything worked out, and they have a lovely home in Indiana near two of their other sons and their families. The fact that it was so good for them financially was interesting and welcome, but it wasn't the reason they moved.

A few weeks ago, MIL and FIL flew back to Utah (because their health insurance is still here) to go to some follow-up medical appointments for MIL, who had been experiencing a great deal of pain in her abdomen, a pain for which the doctors had not yet been able to diagnose the reason. A scan showed some masses in her abdominal cavity, but she ended up in the ER twice because of the agony she was enduring before she was finally diagnosed with cancer--presumably ovarian. 

Long story short, surgery revealed two massive tumors that, because of the amount of blood supplying them, were too dangerous to be removed. Instead, she started chemo last Monday in the hopes of shrinking the tumors and their blood supply so they could be safely removed. The pain has been excruciating and relentless, however, and MIL ended up in the ER again last night because of it. After another scan was taken, it appears that the two large tumors (unshrunken from chemo) have been joined by almost numberless new little tumors everywhere. The tumors--especially the large ones--are causing the pain. She's absolutely riddled with cancer. Even if the chemo shrinks the large tumors so they can be removed, the smaller tumors will grow and cause more pain in the near future.

MIL and FIL are not staying with us. One of my brothers-in-law's mother-in-law offered her empty, fully furnished four-bedroom ranch-style home (located near Salt Lake City and the cancer hospitals) for them to live in so they could isolate after chemo and so MIL didn't have to negotiate the stairs at our house. It's just one of the Lord's many tender mercies during this time, as that house was also available for my four BILs and one SIL, who all flew in from Indiana and England to be with their parents at this time. While they stayed for a couple weeks and spent every day with their mother at the hospital, they all finally had to go home and take care of their own families.

Husband just got off the phone with his mother, and it was a hard conversation. MIL wants to go. She is in so much pain, with only more pain to look forward to. The chemo treatments are three weeks apart, and she has two more to go before the surgery is scheduled for the two largest tumors to be removed. That's another eight weeks of this agony (two more weeks before the next chemo infusion, and three more weeks each before and after the third infusion). She is certain she can't last that long in such excruciating pain, and if she doesn't want to stay, I don't think she will live much longer, which may be the biggest blessing for her. 

There have been many sweet experiences amongst the hardships of this. These things just emphasize to me that the Lord is aware and involved in everything that happens in our lives, if we want Him to be, even if He does not always remove the trials. If we want Him with us, He will be. He holds us in His hands as we go through our trials. He gives us the strength to get through so we can learn everything that I firmly believed we wanted to learn in mortality. During a blessing that one of my brothers-in-law gave MIL, she learned that her beloved father is near her now.

MIL is in the Lord's hands. It would be a mercy if she could go quickly, if that's what is meant to be. Her children are talking to each other on Zoom and have agreed that they will support their mother in whatever she wants to do. One of my brothers-in-law is a doctor in Indiana, and he has been MIL's advocate this whole time. He's furious that MIL was allowed to leave the ER this last time with the level of pain that she is suffering and is determined to find out how the ball was dropped on her pain management.

More to come. Sigh. Mortality isn't easy. Things are weird. 

Rant from an Increasingly Invisible Woman

 My daughter, Elannah, was successfully installed over a week ago at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. As Sister Aurora, she is doing very, very well. She loves the MTC and her mission companion, who will also be going to the Nashville Mission, but she is very excited about getting out of the MTC this coming Wednesday into her mission, as well.

Sister Aurora (on the right) and her mission companion from Arizona on one of the walkways at the Missionary Training Center.

Meanwhile:

Me: minding my own business or innocently sleeping

Brain: "Okay, everyone, that's the signal! Heat the furnace to surface-of-the-sun temps and open the sweat gland spigots! Go, go, go!"

Me: "What? No! There was no signal! No signal! Turn if off!"

Brain: "You heard her! That's the signal! Crank up the heat!"

Hot flashes. Multiple times a day. 

I can feel my internal furnace suddenly kick on right before I'm completely drenched in perspiration, and for at least two minutes, I feel like I'm standing in hell. If I'm at home, I start frantically removing clothing or bedding. If I'm at work, I do what I can without exposing the faculty or students to an indecent display. I would rather dress as if it's the middle of summer and endure being chilly between hot flashes than exacerbate the problem with warmer clothing. Day or night, however, I'm uncomfortable most of the time.  

Before I got Covid, I had my hot flashes pretty tamed and was only getting one maybe once every two weeks, if that. Since having contracted and recovered from Covid, I am getting them ten to fifteen times a day. It's killing me! While I have managed to overcome the lingering Covid cough, the hot flashes continue mostly unabated, and I don't know what to do. I'm taking evening primrose oil, ashwaganda root, and maca root powder, and I'm still not seeing much relief. I think I can safely conclude that something about having Covid or being around newly vaccinated, spike-protein-shedding people at work and in the community has thrown off my hormonal balance even more severely than it was before; hopefully, long-term ingestion of these adaptogen, hormone-balancing supplements and foods (maca root is a food, not an herb) will help over time. 

I was just reading about how some doctors have seen major success in mitigating vaccine-induced spike protein red blood cell damage with the use of high-dose vitamin C, so maybe I'll start taking vitamin C doses to bowel tolerance again. A few years ago, I did an experiment on myself with vitamin C dosages three times a day to bowel tolerance, so I know what that level is now.

I went to see a gynecologist a while ago, and he was absolutely no help. I didn't want a male OB/GYN, but I had to take what I could get because the clinic was booked out for months for their female gynos. Predictably, he listened to my list of concerns and then told me that all of what I listed was natural for women of my age. Yes, I know that, but I was hoping for some guidance on mitigating these symptoms, not a condescending brush-off about just living with symptoms for which he will never have personal experience! Instead, he spent the majority of our very short visit lecturing me on getting Covid jabs before prescribing a few tests I requested, all of which came back normal (as usual) except for the finding that my vitamin D levels are exceedingly low (and I only figured that out because I got into my patient portal and looked at my vitamin D blood test and CBC results and went online to get some help interpreting each of the results. The clinic told me everything was normal and didn't even mention the vitamin D levels!). From the way he treated me once he learned I had not had the Covid jabs, I understood he did not care to have me return. I have so little faith in western medicine when it comes to women's health issues. When you are a middle-aged, overweight woman, it's hard to get anyone--including healthcare professionals--to see you as a person at all. You become invisible, to a certain extent. It's sad when I can get better health guidance from credible doctors on YouTube than I can from going in-person to a professional. 

Anyway, I've added vitamin D drops to my daily regimen. I have to be careful, however, with all my supplements. A new, fun thing I'm experiencing when I take supplements is that I get the sensation of needing to urinate almost all the time even when I don't have a full bladder. I've had to cut everything except the hormone-balancing supplements back to nearly zero in order to not feel like I need to rush to the bathroom every minute of the day. 

I'm confused about all of this, and I'm very disappointed in western medicine, but I'm not actually depressed or anything. Nor do I suffer from horrific pre-menopausal mood swings, thank goodness! I'm just irritated and uncomfortable. I've had to change my habits considerably in order to deal with so many hot flashes, but I'm fortunate that I don't have serious health problems that really keep me from doing what I enjoy doing. So, while the above is a rant, it is not sign that I am in despair. Just in case you were worried.

This stuff is delicious! I bought a cheap little coffee maker just to make this drink, which has no coffee or tea in it. It's a mix of ground chaga mushroom and ashwagandha root, and with a little cream, it's a lovely morning beverage. The lady at the health store in town has been using this to end her coffee addiction. Coffee has never been my problem, but I very much enjoy a mug of this in the morning.

First World Problems

 A couple days ago, I was craving the chocolate cake from the movie Mathilda. 

If you've seen that movie, you know exactly what I mean.

So, because none of the grocery store options appealed to me, I made a moist, dense three-layer chocolate cake covered in chocolate cream cheese frosting--all from scratch. When I finally got it all assembled and frosted, it was so tall that I couldn't put the glass lid back on the cake stand. 

I keep forgetting that I only have two kids left at home now that Elannah went into the MTC this past week. It's too much cake. I doubt we'll be able to finish it off before it goes bad, which would not have been an issue five or six years ago. I'm not sure if I'm complaining or what. Who complains about too much chocolate cake?

My Sense of Smell: Goodbye and Hello?

If I wasn't quite convinced before that I actually had Covid a couple weeks ago, I have my final proof: I have now lost my sense of smell.

It's not as bad as I thought it would be, but I do hope it comes back soon. I've been hearing horror stories of people who lost it for months or who have never gotten it back. 

I thought it was odd a few days ago when I was making Indian butter chicken that I couldn't smell the spices. Indian food creates a party in your nose before it becomes a party in your mouth, but, for me, the party just wasn't getting started. Husband came down the stairs into the kitchen while I was cooking and said, "That smells really good," and I, who had been practically sticking my entire face into the pot because I was puzzled by the fact that I couldn't smell the usually heavenly mix of spices even though my nose was tingling from the ginger- and garlic-infused steam, was even more confused. Later, when we ate, I found it all very bland, but I chalked it up to not having used enough spices.

A day later, I was getting ready for work and spritzed on a bit of perfume, which I belatedly noticed didn't seem to have any scent. I was in a hurry, so I soon forgot it as I got into the car and started charting out my day in my head. 

At work, however, it finally sunk in. I was drinking a soda that was supposed to taste like cherry, but I could only barely tell that it was sweet. All the little oddities over the past couple days suddenly came together and I had a realization. 

"Griff!" I shouted to my boss, "I've lost my sense of smell!" 

Griff ran out of his office. "Really? No way! Here, use this sanitizer and see if you can smell it." 

We have hand sanitizer dispensers that were installed by our employer last year, but the sanitizer smells so awful that no one uses it. I had to buy a few pump bottles of sanitizer just so people would be able to sanitize their hands without gagging. I squirted some of the awful stuff on my hands, rubbed it in, and then brought my hands to my face. 

Nothing. My gag reflex remained completely unstimulated.

"Ugh!" said Griff, making a face. "I can smell it from here!" 

Griff was excited because I'm the first person he knows who has actually lost her sense of smell due to Covid, and my willingness to talk about it and experiment had us both going around smelling things to observe my reactions. When the regional director, Shane, walked through the door a couple minutes later, Griff told him about our little experiment, and then Shane got excited and started asking me questions about what it was like to not be able to smell. I also told them about my diminished sense of taste, which made them a little sad for me. 

Update: it's been about a week since I first wrote this, and tonight, after my shower, I used some scented hand lotion and I COULD SMELL IT! Before tonight, I couldn't. This is a very promising development. I couldn't smell skunk yesterday, which didn't bother me. Maybe I'll get my sense of smell back only for the lovely smells and not for the gaggious ones (yes, I made that up). 

Natural Immunity

 Today is Day 3 of having tested positive for Covid-19, Day 5 of coming down with flu-like symptoms. 

Oh, the politics of not having had a Covid jab and then getting sick and testing positive! 

If you're in my position, you know that some people in this country are sincerely hoping we'll die for our sin of not getting the shots. Fortunately, no one I personally know has been that cruel to my face, but I still find it disheartening the implication from well-meaning people that if I had just had the jabs, I wouldn't be sick now--as if anyone could know that sort of thing. There is a lot of vitriol going on right now, however. Can you ever think of a time when people actually and sincerely hoped that others would be denied medical care and die in a horrible, terrible manner just because they were reluctant to get experimental injections and wanted to wait and see? To wish others to die horribly in order to be proven right...what a weird time to be alive.

Here's why I haven't had a Covid injection:

1. I'm highly, highly skeptical of shots that have not gone through rigorous safety testing--usually for ten years before being approved by the FDA (the credibility of the FDA is another story, of course) and used on the public. After researching the subject, I'm also highly skeptical of mRNA shots being successful (and any shots being successful against a coronavirus!) when they have never been successfully developed before in all the decades people have been trying to make them. In previous mRNA studies, the animals used in the studies have all died, and now, suddenly, we have "safe and effective" mRNA shots in less than a year!? I think I have done enough serious research to justify my own desire to wait and see. I also think that data from Israeli studies has justified my skepticism to a large degree where American data is skewed to fit a specific narrative. Setting aside all my other worries about government power grabs and the desire to resist having medical procedures forced upon anyone, not just myself, the data alone seems to be bearing out the idea that natural immunity is more broad and longer-lasting than the immunity to specific spike proteins provided by the jabs, the jabs also carrying with them some risk of short- and long-term negative side effects--some of which may only show up in the next few years. 

2. I have a strong immune system despite being middle-aged and overweight. Before this last week, I haven't needed to take a sick day for over five years. I didn't take one sick day last year, and I never took a sick day during the entire four-and-a-half years when I was driving a school bus. There are other things going on with me, but catching every bug that comes along has never been one of them. I decided that the risk of getting sick with Covid was more acceptable to me than the risk of getting the jabs and then possibly still getting sick with Covid. The injections seemed to pose more possibility of injury than the risks of Covid for my particular situation. Just before I got sick last Saturday, I had a bout of severe diarrhea which I think lowered my immune resistance. I know: ew! You didn't want to know that. But if people who are not medical doctors are going to lecture me like they are medical doctors, then they're going to hear medical doctor kind of stuff. (I'm sorry if you got caught in the crossfire there.)

3. Most importantly, twice now I have had strong spiritual warnings to not take the jabs (though I'm not saying that is the right answer for everyone). 

The first time was when my parents were getting the J&J jab earlier this year. My mom had been praying really hard about it, and that was the one she felt overwhelmingly that she and my dad needed to get. My mom has great spiritual acuity, so I thought, "Well, if Mom feels that way, I'll get the J&J jab, too," but as soon as I thought it, the Spirit slammed through me with a definitive, "NO!" When my seminary faculty all ran off to get the shots the moment they were available, I didn't make a big deal out of it but I did quietly explain why I wouldn't be joining them. They didn't agree with me, but they didn't argue with me. The fact that others might doubt my spiritual answers when they are convinced their own decisions are correct for everyone doesn't make me any less obligated to follow my own spiritual promptings. Yes, there is plenty of peer pressure among Church members, too, but no one should follow anyone else blindly.

The second time was after the LDS Church's First Presidency message was released urging members to get the jabs, stating that they are "safe and effective." I admit that I was initially stunned and even angry about that. I had read enough about some of the serious adverse events of these injections to be shocked that the prophet (a brilliant and highly sought after heart surgeon in his former career) and other leaders could make a blanket statement about experimental mRNA injections being safe and effective, and even more stunned that they came out with a directive about it at all instead of urging members to carefully study and pray about their own personal circumstances, consulting with their medical doctors, and making their own decisions. Husband and I had a few very long talks about my feelings of betrayal in that regard, but he is wise and helped me set aside my emotion and think through things logically. In the end, I realized that I would rather be humble before the Lord than arrogantly tell Him what I think should happen and then suffer the consequences of being incredibly short-sighted. I do, however, always reserve the right to pray about and get confirmation from the Lord through the Spirit on anything the Church leaders have to say. It took a little doing, but I did put myself into the mindset of humility, successfully identifying and releasing the fear of having been proven wrong in front of others and, thus, suffering a severe blow to my pride. I was ready to get injected if that's what the Lord asked of me. So I went to the Lord in prayer and humbly asked if I should get injected. I can say I was honestly ready to do so. In fact, I expected to be told to do so. But the Spirit said, "No, not right now." It wasn't as forceful as the first time, but it was still a solid no. 

Days later, I started feeling flu-ey. Today, after having survived a few days of mild flu symptoms (low-grade fever, muscle aches, overly sensitive skin, earache, stuffy/runny nose, and a cough), I have slightly stuffy sinuses and a bit of a chesty cough left to deal with. I am hoping that I will not have any long-term repercussions other than natural immunity, and I judge no one else for either choosing to get the injections or choosing not to. I also don't claim to know the reasons for the "no" answers and my own bout with Covid. I am not trying to prove anything here. I'm just trying to do what's right. 

I can go back to work next Tuesday. As this was the second week of school, it was definitely not a great time to have to quarantine as the administrative assistant, and my faculty have had to pick up a lot of my slack even if I'm trying to do as much as possible from home. Husband is allowed to continue working, but he has to wear an N95 mask until next Thursday, poor man. He's finding it hard to breathe, much less teach, in one of those. Little Gary had to quarantine with me until next Monday, when he can go back to school. Elannah works outside all day, away from anybody, so she didn't even bother telling her work that I tested positive. Joseph studies at home, so this hasn't had much of an impact on him.

If you've made it all the way to the end of this long blog post, I have some really good news: my oldest daughter, Siân, officially announced her pregnancy. She is now into the second trimester, but after having suffered a couple miscarriages, she and Nathan wanted to wait a bit before announcing the pregnancy this time. I am so excited to be a grandmother again! I am excited to see my little grandson be a big brother. I love babies!

Souvenirs, Novelties, Party Tricks

Today is one of the first days it hasn't smelled like a campfire outside, what with all the smoke that has been blowing in from the big fires in California and Oregon and a big fire that was up one of the canyons in The Big City. It has rained a lot, which has cleared the air and spurred the weeds to grow even more lush and green than they already are.

July was a busy month. There was Sophia's wedding, of course, and at the end of the month Husband and I took our two youngest (the boys) on a road trip to Indiana to drop off my father-in-law's car so it would be ready for my in-laws when they moved into their new home. They had no desire to take a Great American Road Trip across half the country (they paid movers to haul their furniture and a professional animal mover to take their dogs and cats) but I saw it as an opportunity for both a little vacation and to show the boys some country outside our own state. We drove in a leisurely way over five days through Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, southern Illinois, and into Indiana and watched the landscape change from desert and mountains to rolling green hills and and fields of corn and soybeans and forests. By sticking to the smaller two-lane highways and mostly bypassing the big interstates, we got to see all the little towns and small cities that make up the heart of America. After spending a couple days in Indianapolis to rest and visit one of my brothers-in-law and his family, we flew back home and helped MIL and FIL clear out the last of their belongings from their house and say good-bye to their home of the last nine years before flying off to their new home and new adventures. 

Mum and Dad standing on their Utah doorstep for the last time. There were tears from my MIL. My FIL really doesn't get too sentimental about things like that.

Tower Hill at Adam-Ondi-Ahman, Missouri. This place has incredible significance to members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and when we stopped there on a Sunday, we had it all to ourselves. It was so peaceful. I had been here once before as a teenager and had a strong spiritual experience, so I was very excited to be able to visit again and have the boys there.

Adam-Ondi-Ahman

We went to Nauvoo, Illinois, the Monday after visiting Adam-Ondi-Ahman--another place of significance for LDS people. We were able to take a carriage ride and a tour of the shoe shop and printing shop and stand on the banks of the Mississippi River. 

In Indianapolis, we visited Conner Prairie, a living museum of American frontier life in the 1700s and 1800s. Husband, Joseph, and Little Gary are re-enacting the hot air balloon trip that we took there.

At the Indianapolis Airport waiting to fly home. This was the boys' first airplane trip. Fortunately, both legs of our trip went extremely well and the boys managed to snag window seats both times.

We stopped at a natural history museum somewhere in Kansas. Little Gary rode the big spider.

This is me and my grandson, Tyler, at my niece's wedding a couple days ago. When he saw me, he ran right up to me for a big, squeezy hug. I adore this precious little boy!

Sophia: from Miss to Mrs.

 Well, my sweet Sophia has gone from a Miss to a Mrs. 

(I'm going to warn you right now that I only have a few pictures that I took because I was so busy and because it often doesn't occur to me to take pictures when I'm experiencing a thing. When the professional wedding photos arrive, I'll post some of those. My own pics are, of course, pretty terrible. Sorry in advance.) 

The wedding went very well. I mean, it was absolutely exhausting, and as the mother of the bride, I was running around making all the decisions and putting out all the little fires that came up during the ceremony and reception, but it turned out very well overall. At least Sophia was happy with it, and that's what counts. 

Sophia in the car on the way to the venue. She was in very good spirits, and I loved having one last chance to drive with her as just my daughter before she became a married woman.

I totally underestimated how much food we would need. We had the wedding ceremony first and scheduled an hour between the ceremony and the reception during which the photographers could take all the family and group pictures. Just about everyone who was at the ceremony stuck around for the reception, and by the time we started putting the food out, people were famished. The nacho meat ran out about twenty minutes after we started serving, and we went through the nacho cheese alarmingly quickly. I sent Elannah to the closest Walmart twice for lemonade mix (it was such a hot day and everyone was dying of thirst) and a couple other things, but when we were in danger of running out of cheese and chips, she didn't want to make a third trip and risk missing Sophia's and Matt's waltz that they had been practicing for months and that Dalton and Elannah had choreographed for them. 

Elannah in the car on the way to the venue. She and Sophia joked and laughed and controlled the music selection during the drive.

Fortunately, the venue assigns hosts for each event, and our host, Susie, was so eager to assist me in any way that she happily made a list of what I needed and ran off to get it. Neither Elannah nor I had to miss the waltz, which was adorably and perfectly executed, and Susie soon returned with bags and bags of chips and four large cans of nacho cheese. By that point, however, the people who were going to eat had pretty much eaten, so I ended up with ten extra bags of chips and three extra cans of nacho cheese that we had to haul home, but at least we never ran out of anything except the meat! I used the receipt the next day to return the chips and the cans of cheese and got over $50 back, which was good because I had no idea how we were going to eat all of it before the chips went stale. 

I also had to teach a couple volunteers how to use the rented cotton candy machine, which was a trip. I had practiced briefly at home that morning, but I was still no expert after just the one try. My kitchen ended up covered in wisps of sugar, with more in my hair and on my clothing, and I was frantically grabbing paper cones to try and corral all the cotton candy before more of it flew out of the drum and continued coating myself and my kitchen in festive stickiness. 

My initial experience, however, taught me that 1) we should use the machine outside, and 2) I needed more than one person to wrap cotton candy on the paper cones because the industrial-size machine made so much cotton candy at once. Our final product looked very wonky and amateurish, and one of my volunteer ladies suffered a bit of a burn on her hand, but the cones of blue and pink cotton candy turned out to be a popular addition to the reception fare. However, never again. That was all the lifetime experience I need in the cotton candy department.

Around 9pm, Sophia and Matt left the reception as we all lined up down the sidewalk and clapped and cheered them out to their car and their new married lives together. After that, most of the guests also left, and the family members who were kind enough to stick around helped me break down all the decorations and clean up. I was limping by that point, but with all the help, we got everything wrapped up, put away, washed, swept, and mopped in only forty-five minutes. 

I had not eaten all day. I didn't have time. I've been eating low carb for weeks now, so not eating all day is not nearly as difficult as it would be if I hadn't been eating low carb, but I was still ready for a little nosh. The boys had gone home earlier with my in-laws, so it was just me, Husband, and Elannah in the car. We went to the McDonald's drive-thru, and I ordered five plain hamburger patties and a large water. That hit the spot, and I was able to not cry even once during the long ninety-minute drive home while my feet and legs cramped and ached. I was in good spirits because Sophia was happy with the whole thing. Also, I looked forward to sleeping in the next morning and not worrying about the wedding anymore. It's done and dusted. I won't have to worry about Elannah having a wedding for at least the next nineteen months as she's serving a mission; the boys will have fiancees who will probably want to plan their own weddings, so I'm nearly out of the woods. After Elannah's future wedding, I may not ever have to plan another major party if I'm very, very lucky.  

Early Sunday morning, I drove Sophia and Matt to the airport so they could leave for their honeymoon in Cancun. Their trip went smoothly, and when they arrived, the hotel staff gave them a free upgrade to a suite and comped all their room service because they were honeymooners. Meanwhile, Matt's mother and her sisters have gone through his house and done a deep clean, so Matt and Sophia will arrive home to a sparkling clean former bachelor pad with barely any furniture that Sophia will quickly turn into a home for the both of them. I'm very excited for Sophia to start this new chapter of her life.

Additional pictures:

Matt's parents hosted a rehearsal dinner with a luau theme the night before the wedding. A local Hawaiian restaurant catered with kahlua pork, rice, macaroni salad, and grilled pineapple, so it was all very delicious, and I even allowed myself a little scoop of the mac salad. 

Dalton (Elannah's boyfriend), Elannah, and my grandson, Tyler, at the rehearsal dinner. It was so, so hot, but there was a blessed breeze that kept us all from dying of heat exhaustion. Tyler had so much fun running around and getting frequently scooped up for kisses by his aunts, uncles, and grandparents. His mama doesn't often let him use screens, so he was very happy to use Elannah's phone for a bit.

Matt's parents own a lovely home on a small lake. They let Joseph and Little Gary take out the paddleboat after dinner.

We ate our dinner in a tent that kept the hot sun off our heads and was large enough to seat all 100 or so of the guests, which included family from both sides along with bridesmaids and groomsmen and their significant others.

Husband and I and Matt's parents sat at the head table with the future bride and groom. Matt's best man (a childhood friend of Matt's) and Sophia's maid of honor (Elannah) made speeches, which were both hilarious and touching.

Husband at the luau looking cool. He has a Hawaiian shirt, but he refused to wear it, lol!

After the actual rehearsal, Matt and Sophia were busy greeting guests, and I barely saw them other than when we were sitting down to eat, so I don't have any pics of them from this evening, which is a shame. 

A Series of Life-Altering Bits of News

 Elannah received her mission call to the Tennessee Nashville Mission (English-speaking), and she's very excited. As her parent, I'm selfishly excited that she's going stateside. The world is getting weirder and weirder, and I like that she will be closer to home should something even more weird happen. Plus, maybe her father and I will get to go pick her up when her mission is over. While she won't get the opportunity to live in another culture and learn to communicate in another language, she is going to another part of the United States with a distinctive culture and accent, so I'm sure it will feel a little bit like going somewhere exotic while still being able to hit up a Walmart on her day off.

Because her preschool para job ended when schools closed for the summer, Elannah applied for and was offered an outdoor maintenance job with the city. She is now in charge of pond maintenance for a golf course. It's a 40-hour-a-week job with pretty good pay, and that's what she wanted in order to save more money for her mission. She'll also build up her muscles before she rides a bike on her mission for 18 months (she was specifically told she'll be on a bike). After just one week on her new job, she is already very tan despite using sunblock and wearing a wide-brimmed hat; but she's always been able to tan very easily. I don't know where that gene came from, considering her ancestry is from very pale people of Great Britain and Sweden. 

We only have a couple weeks to go until Sophia's wedding. Sophia and I took a second trip yesterday to her venue to finalize decorating plans, and that helped calm her nerves a little. She's no bridezilla, but she knows what she wants. I'm very proud of her because she has worked hard to make things on her own so that she doesn't need to spend hundreds of dollars on items that can only be used on the wedding day. She's figured things out, including designing and printing her wedding invitations and putting together all the flower arrangements, among other things. She splurged on her dress, but it's the perfect dress; it's like it was designed to fit her exactly. Husband and I splurged on the photographer/videographer. We want her to have fabulous photos.

Joseph is finally taking driving school so he can get his license. He paid for it himself, which is only fair considering how much we're going to end up paying in higher insurance rates, but I'm proud of him for taking the initiative. He doesn't know it yet, but my in-laws are planning on surprising him by giving him one of their cars because...

...my in-laws are moving.

They recently went on a short trip to Indiana to visit two of their other sons, and when we picked them up from the airport upon their return, I knew they were going to move. Something just told me. It was so obvious to me that I had a hard time not casually talking about them moving during normal conversations and had to keep biting my tongue, though I did talk about it quietly with Husband. They themselves didn't figure it out until a week later when they called Husband and I over and tearfully broke the news to us that they had just decided that day that they were selling their house and moving. When we told them we already knew they were going, they were relieved that we weren't angry. Of course we aren't angry! It makes perfect financial sense for them to move, for one thing. They bought their house here at a steep discount nine years ago because it was a foreclosure in a buyer's market. Now it's a seller's market and the house has appreciated over 100%, so they will be able to outright purchase a home in the lower-cost market of their new destination in Indiana, have enough money to pay off debt, and still have enough set by to allow them to make a few more trips to Great Britain to see their other four children. With debt paid off and no mortgage to worry about, their British pensions will be enough to support them now that the exchange rate has rallied a bit in their favor. 

The other reason it makes perfect sense is that they'll be moving close to two of their sons who have never had the chance to live near their parents during their married lives. One of them--my youngest brother-in-law--has two little girls who will get to develop a close relationship with their Nanna and Grampy as they grow up. The other son--Husband's next younger brother--is so excited to finally share holidays and family dinners with his parents, something he's wished for for a long time. How can we begrudge him that joy when we've been lucky enough to have them close by for nine years?

While we will certainly miss their presence just down the street, their move does give us an excuse to make a road trip once or twice a year. I love road trips. After Elannah leaves on her mission, we'll only have the boys living at home, so I want to make more road trips even if Little Gary complains he doesn't enjoy long drives. Suck it up, buttercup. Mama wants to drive to green places and see new things while I still can.

It's Not Them, It's Me

 You know how when you're in one relationship after another that keeps going wrong in the same ways you eventually have to own up to the fact that it's not them--it's you? 

This is the relationship I have with beds. I have to own up to the fact that it's not them, it's me. I'm just not good at sleeping. I can't do these amazing beds justice. No matter how much I whine and complain about how tired I am, it's never the bed's fault.

We recently got a new bed. It's a Layla double-twin dual adjustable bed, and it's fabulous. The mattresses have a firmer side and a softer side, but the softer side is actually soft--unlike many other companies that claim to have soft mattresses that still feel like you're practically sleeping on a board. In the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, I'm Mama Bear. I like mattresses so soft you disappear into a ditch every time you lie down. The soft side of the Layla mattress isn't quite that soft, but it's very, very comfortable. I do not understand people who love a firm mattress. 

The bed we had before--a Casper king with a pillow topper--was absolutely fine, but Husband found this amazing deal on the Layla adjustable bed and snapped it up. This way, we can raise the head of the bed a little, which helps both of us as side sleepers breathe more easily. We had tried a foam wedge under our Casper mattress, and Husband liked it, but I felt like I was sleeping on a hill, which did not help me relax during my sleep. I would slide down during the night and wake up with my feet hanging off the end of the bed. Now, with two adjustable mattresses, we each have control over how high we want to raise our heads and/or feet. Neither of us raise our feet to sleep, but it's nice to have the head raised a few degrees.

Husband also surprised me with a 20lb weighted blanket because I can't stand sleeping under light covers that make me feel like I'm being tickled. I loathe being tickled. Try tickling me and find out how swiftly my normally non-violent self becomes violent. While it is difficult to turn over in the night under all that weight (I also need a body pillow between my knees and to support my arm), it's a great blanket. It feels like being hugged. The problem is that, as it gets warmer outside, I get overheated under that blanket and have to kick it off, so then I am left under only a tickly sheet.

Despite sleeping in this wonderful, comfortable bed, I still wake up feeling like I've been up for 36 hours and have been clenching every muscle in my body while asleep.

I have issues. It's definitely me, not the beds. 

By the way, Little Gary got our Casper king bed. The bed takes up 2/3 of his room, but he's never slept so well.

Mildly Interesting Photos from My Phone

 In my attempts to become an accomplished woman of the Regency era, I have taken up needlepunch and embroidery. I've always been fascinated by the needle arts--especially lush embroidery like crewelwork--and when I saw people reviving needlepunch, I was totally on board.

My first attempt was not terrible, but it wasn't great, either. This, below, is an unfinished canvas. It's supposed to be a dandelion plant, by the way, and not a distorted happy face. Unfortunately, I couldn't find monk's cloth anywhere in my town, so I improvised with a tight-woven upholstery fabric I found at the fabric store. I used Chinese-made needlepunch tools I ordered cheap from Amazon to see if I enjoyed needlepunch before I invested more in some really good, more expensive needlepunch needles. The Chinese ones weren't terrible, but I quickly realized that I was using the wrong yarn. For standard needlepunch, you need a bulky yarn, like rug yarn. The problem is that I have collected enough worsted weight and sport weight yarns to reach to the moon and back, and I'm running out of room to store all that yarn. I would rather use up the yarn I have than buy even more yarn, though hoarding yarn is not unappealing to me. But whatever yarn you use, you really do need monk's cloth to do this right.

I started experimenting with using two strands of yarn in the needle before giving it up altogether because the loops kept coming out, which was very frustrating. Plus, the fabric was very difficult to punch through. I was frequently in danger of jamming the punchneedle into my thigh in my efforts to pop it through the fabric.

I then ordered a mini needlepunch needle from The Oxford Company (high quality) so I can use worsted and sport weight yarns. I also made a new frame by taking the canvas off of a sturdy canvas frame, removing all the staples, and then cutting up and nailing on some carpet tack strips I bought from Home Depot. 

Carpet tack strip has wickedly sharp little nails. I made sure they were angled away from the center of the frame so I can stretch and hook the monk's cloth on the nails (the monk's cloth finally arrived in the mail!).

Since I don't want to repeatedly puncture myself on the tack nails, I also bought some dense foam pipe cover from Home Depot, cut that very raggedly with the miter box and saw because I was too lazy to go all the way upstairs to get my scissors, and then wrapped the pipe cover over the frame. Once the monk's cloth is stretched onto the frame, the pipe cover will keep my arms and hands safe while I work.

I don't have any new punchneedle artwork to show you. Life got a little crazy, so I haven't managed to start one, but I'll show you when I do. I'm sure you'll be all agog at my accomplishment. Mr. Darcy will be sure to count me amongst his half-dozen accomplished women by the time I'm through.

In other news, I have been working on organizing my pantry. Again. It is a never-ending project despite all my attempts to train everyone in the house on where on each shelf different types of pantry items are to be stored. Hopeless. If they see a hole, that's where they shove cans willy-nilly regardless of my instructions. Either I have to be the one to put all the groceries away or I need to stop buying things. Both of those are probably good ideas.

Husband used some scrap board left over from the deck project to make me some extra shelves that sit on the back half of each of the main shelves. This makes it far easier for me to see what is in there because I'm not stacking cans so high. I'm still working on the bottom shelves, but you can see my progress.

I guess you can also see what I tend to keep in my pantry. It turns out I have an astonishing number of cans of pureed pumpkin. Huh. Who knew? Not I, until very recently. I still have a boatload of Indian spices I bought in bulk, and I'll need a spot for those. I guess I'll need to make pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread, and pumpkin pie in order to free up some space.

In other other news, I walked into work one day a couple weeks ago and found a vase of lilies, a six-pack of Diet Coke, and a red plastic bag containing limes and a large chunk of ginger (to make ginger and lime Diet Coke, which is my favorite, but which Coca-Cola once again stopped making). The note was from Skyler's wife in gratitude for my being willing to edit Skyler's school papers so she didn't have to. Lol! They have a toddler and a new baby who cries all the time due to colic, so I'm sure editing school papers is the last thing she wants to do. I have a much easier job than she has at the moment. Skyler is an excellent writer and easy to edit, but I certainly wouldn't have the strength anymore to raise babies. At this stage of my life, I have chosen the grandmother option for child care: enjoy them thoroughly and then hand them back when they're cranky or have a dirty diaper.

I think that about covers the mildly interesting pics I found on my phone. Thanks for taking a glance at them. Enjoy the rest of your day, because I wish you all the best!

Little Wins and Great Satisfactions

 I didn't know it was Administrative Assistants Day last week until I walked into our daily morning meeting at work and was presented with flowers, candy, and a card on which every single one of the faculty had written a note of appreciation ("You complete us," wrote Tanner, who has an understated and dry sense of humor that makes me belly-laugh). What floored me was that it wasn't an afterthought, and the fact that they planned ahead and coordinated this little presentation was what made me very nearly tear up right in front of them--I didn't cry or anything, but I think they could tell I was truly touched.

Speaking of work, I normally feel like a fish who is trying to climb a tree--in other words, stupid and ignorant--when it comes to having conversations with the faculty about pedagogy or deep gospel topics. These guys are whip smart and highly educated in their field, and I cannot add anything new or very insightful to their discussions. I mostly just listen. They are also the cream of the crop of gospel teachers, as they have to beat out some intense competition in order to become seminary teachers; you'd be surprised how many wanna-be seminary teachers there are compared to how few actually make it through the program and get hired. While I love the guys on the faculty like brothers, I usually feel pretty ignorant around them--not that they ever treat me with anything less than respect and true camaraderie.

Recently, however, I finally got to speak to a subject about which I actually know something. 

One of the teachers, Neil, is moving to the East Coast after this school year is over to teach Institute (religion classes for young adults, ages 18-30) at a university, and he and his wife recently visited their new city and bought a 1960s mid-century modern home with a very large yard. They're having it remodeled (it needed some repair and updating) and putting an addition onto the back.  

I immediately expressed interest in his new house, so Neil happily showed me pictures. He said he and his wife want to go quite modern in their decor, so I brought in a stack of my more current Architectural Digest and Better Homes & Gardens magazines so Neil and his wife could get some inspiration for their house and their massive yard, for which he was very grateful. What surprised me, however, is that, instead of just taking the magazines home for his wife to look at, he sat down during some of his free moments and went through the magazines very thoroughly and then sought me out to discuss his ideas about decor using images from the magazines as inspiration. I am not an interior designer or decorator except in the most amateur of senses, but I have done a lot of study on the subject and some experimentation in my own house. I was able to give him a little lesson on the goals of mid-century modern design; what parts of his new home he should leave alone and where he might want to make changes; and some ideas about the best types of materials he could use for his various projects. He is also excited about color and has even come up with a color palette he likes, so we've talked about how to bring those colors into his house. I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed these conversations--not because I get to school him a little (or, rather, not only because of that) but because I love watching Neil's superbly analytical mind take on such a different type of project. I love having this connection with him. He's like an onion: for every layer you peel away, there are a dozen more underneath.

Today, during one of our in-depth dives into color, I mentioned a very basic truism about decor: go neutral with your expensive purchases, like couches and other big furniture, and pull color in through paint, throw pillows, draperies, and rugs--items that are far cheaper to buy and which can be easily switched out as your color tastes change. It was a true revelation to him, and he gushed for a full minute about how brilliant that idea is. It was nice to be in the position of blowing his mind for once. We also hashed out color options for the exterior of the house and how to have exterior colors speak to interior colors. I helped him think outside the Utahn houses-painted-mushroom-colors-of-brown box, and I saw his eyes start to sparkle with new ideas. 

Most satisfying. 

My other win today was that I learned how to create a flyer in Word and then came up with a flyer design for graduation ceremonies that even Husband complimented (Husband's bachelors degree was in Film Studies and Graphic Arts, which included a lot of graphic design). Thanks, YouTube teachers who are willing to share their knowledge for free! From YouTube channels, I have also learned all about creating informative Excel spreadsheets, which I had absolutely no idea how to do when I first started this job. Now I'm doing formulas and graphs and everything! 

If it sounds like I'm bragging, I am a little, but not because I'm thinking I'm all that. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm not the world's biggest loser. It was a rough week last week, emotionally speaking. 'Nuff said. 

The Beginning of the End to Covid Restrictions?

It was a red-letter day yesterday!

Yesterday morning, I went to the first work meeting I've been to in nearly a year where no one had to wear a mask or stay six feet apart--and this was at an inservice meeting for all the seminary and institute faculties in the valley, so we had a couple dozen people there.

Our employer has now stated that, in areas where the Covid vaccines have been made available to faculty and staff (and regardless of whether or not all employees have actually had the vaccine), we no longer have to mask up and physically distance in each others' company. When we're working with students, we do still have to mask up, per state policy, but we no longer have to do that around other employees. 

This is a vast improvement. It was so nice to see each others' faces and to clearly hear the region director speak because he wasn't muffled by a mask. There was a lot of laughter and happiness. 

I had been wondering how hard it would be for us to get used to being so close to each other again. Would we be hesitant? Feel residual guilt or fear? Turns out we got used to it pretty quickly. After the first few minutes, we all forget we'd ever been wearing masks and staying away from each other. I even got a hug from Denise, whom I haven't seen in weeks, and Jenie and I whispered quietly to each other on the back row, where we leaned close enough to hear each other. It felt completely natural by that point, as if we had never suffered through masks and social distancing for the last year.

Most of my colleagues have been vaccinated or have had Covid, or both. They jumped at the chance to be vaccinated as soon as they were offered the opportunity, though my employer did not poll who had and who had not taken the vaccine (and they have promised that they won't poll the employees about that in the future, either). My entire faculty have been vaccinated (and all of them suffered side effects ranging from mild and annoying to quite severe, though they have all fully recovered now), and I'm sure that most of the faculty and staff from the other seminaries and institutes in the valley have been vaccinated as well. I'm one of the very few holdouts, I think. 

My parents waited for and got the Johnson&Johnson one-dose vaccine, and it took them about a week to fully recover, although their reactions were not severe--mostly general malaise, but no bad fevers or chills. My mother, who is a praying woman, felt very strongly that she and my dad needed to wait for that particular vaccine to be available. I, myself, who am also a praying woman, have felt very strongly that I need to continue waiting. I don't know why, but that's what I'll do unless the Spirit tells me otherwise. 

By next week, anyone in our state who is 16 and over will be eligible to receive the vaccine, so I imagine the numbers of vaccinated will grow by leaps and bounds. Dare I hope that by the next school year none of us will be wearing masks? I might finally be able to start really learning the students' names because I can finally see their faces.

I Have a Little Too Much Time on My Hands at the Moment

 In a delightful turn of events, my 2 1/2-year-old grandson, Tyler, has learned how to send me Marco Polo video messages without his mother helping him. Sometimes, his mother isn't even aware that he's sending them. Today I got one such message, and I'm still giggling about it. He couldn't figure out how to turn the camera to face him, so I got a very up-close and personal look at his chubby little leg as he sat on the couch, but I heard him say over and over in his chirpy little voice, "Hi, Nanna! Hi! Hi, Nanna!" Then he must have realized his Mommy was coming back because he said, "Oh!" and the video ended. 

I immediately sent him a return video and gave him high-fives and fist bumps, which he loves. Sian says he often asks to re-watch videos from me. Could I be more in love with that adorable, precocious, mischievous baby? 

In an undelightful turn of events, my boss informed me that he had been mistaken in telling me I only had to wait four days after the last of Husband's symptoms before getting tested and returning to work. It's actually seven days, which means I can't go back until next week. Meanwhile, Husband, who actually had Covid, started back to work yesterday. I still don't have any symptoms (and neither has anyone else), and both Elannah and Joseph have already tested negative and can return to work. 

I am keeping myself busy by doing as much of my administrative assistant duties as I can from home. In my quiet moments, I do some editing and writing for Marco's website. I'm slowly getting my brain back into the content writing mode, remembering what I need to do for SEO and the algorithms. Marco is very good at cranking out content on a daily basis, and I'm good at editing. Sometimes I overthink the writing part, so when I'm mentally bogged down, I switch it up and do some editing. Marco can get content out quickly--and I'm very impressed with his ability to write so well in a non-native language (his native language is Italian)--but I'm still better at English grammar and sentence structure, so my editing powers come in handy at making the content more coherent and flowing. He's happy with my work, so we're good. I don't want to step on his toes.

I found some old photos. 

A webcam image from around 2010, when I first started my foray into content/website writing for a now defunct company. I had to talk to clients on the phone to understand exactly what information they wanted on their website pages--thus the headset. Gosh, I look young!

Also circa 2010-2011: Little Gary and his mama. Even though he is currently 13, Little Gary is still a very affectionate son. 

And here's a recent video of Tyler. Elannah had been delighting him by playing peek-a-boo and startling him, which he loves. After she was done, Little Gary kept up the game, but by that point, Tyler was only doing the courtesy laughs even though he was trying his best to sound very sincere. Sian told us that when Tyler laughs, he often shouts, "Nanna and Grampy!" so it sounds like he's contributing to the conversation. Of course, I'm delighted with that.

The Joy of Non-Professional Writing

 Husband is quickly recovering now. He's still fatigued, but all the flu symptoms have gone. None of the rest of us have had any symptoms thus far.

I'm not sure when I'll get to go back to work. My company is operating on a more stringent Covid protocol than the CDC's, so I may not be allowed back for at least another week, which is longer than Husband will have had to quarantine, and he's the one who actually had Covid! That's irritating, but at least they'll let me work from home so I can get some pay. Husband can go back to work on Tuesday.

I haven't accomplished much of anything during this enforced time off. I'm very disappointed in myself for that. I mean, there's always housecleaning and cooking of meals, but that's pretty mundane not very exciting. Why haven't I written a book yet? It's not like I haven't had the time! I've certainly had the time to watch way too many Saturday Night Live sketches on YouTube. I have a million things I need to do--especially as the Relief Society president--and all of them are hard and none of them are things I am anxious to do, so they feel overwhelming. Sometimes, you need to have a little success with something that's low-stakes in order to pump yourself up to do the harder stuff.

My friend, Marco, came to my rescue. I've known him since my mission to England in the early 1990s, where we both served in the same area and became good friends. He's an enterprising guy, and he has a lot of irons in the fire with his regular day job at a well-known software company, an adjunct professor of business at his local university (he does that for fun and not for the pay, which is terrible), and as the creator of some websites that he's been operating for a few years now, his most popular one being focused on his home town in Italy. 

Marco's most recent website contains little blurbs of about 200 or so words about why we do the things we do or use the things we use. For instance, why do we shake hands as a greeting? When did forks become popular? From which country and/or tradition did knights originate? You know, the kind of interesting little facts you can use to win a trivia game or pull out at a party to start a conversation or answer the unending questions from a curious child. 

Marco has asked me to help him with this website--both as an editor for his work and as a writer of some of the blurbs. It's good to get back to some writing and editing. It stretches my brain. I sometimes help the guys at work edit their school papers (they're all either getting their doctorates or obtaining certifications that will increase their pay), but I'm not missing the pressure and stress of professional content writing. It's fun to do something that isn't high pressure writing. While Marco has offered to let me keep any revenue generated by blurbs that I write, we both laughed about the idea of making a living off of this website--at least in the short term. You'd have to get hundreds of thousands of visitors to generate enough to live on, and while that can happen if you find the right niche and the right content and work like crazy to market it, I'm not holding my breath. For now, it's just a fun little thing to do.

I took the dog for a walk and my brain came up with a few good ideas that Marco didn't already think of, so I better get cracking. 

Q Time

 It's after 1pm and I only recently got dressed. That's okay because 1pm in Q Time (Quarantine Time) is 9am in regular time, so I don't count myself as lazy. 

Yes, Husband tested positive. He spent a long time yesterday, after receiving the test results, trying to find out the school district's current policy on how long he needs to quarantine. It was surprisingly difficult to figure that out. Even his principal was getting the runaround for that information as people kept passing him along to someone else who might know. Turns out no one really knows what's going on, which has pretty much been the theme of the years 2020 and 2021, no?

Anyway, the answer appears to be that Husband has to quarantine for ten days from the onset of symptoms. Unfortunately, Sophia and Elannah, who also work for the school district, have to quarantine for at least ten days from the testing day--not the onset of Husband's symptoms--and have to have a negative test result to return. Husband has sick leave he can use, but the rest of us won't get paid for being in quarantine. It's all very annoying in both the financial and the social senses. There was definitely some whining going on from some people (I won't name any names) who had boyfriends/fiancés on Valentine's Day.

Husband is making a slow recovery, but he has not felt well at all. It's like a flu with a low-grade fever, aches and pains, chills, and headache. At least he hasn't lost his sense of taste or smell. I had a painful earache for a couple days, but that's the only thing that has happened to me so far (knock wood). I sprayed colloidal silver into my ear several times, and now my ear is back to normal, so I'm hoping I have escaped anything worse. I very rarely get ill despite my continued weakness for ginger and lime Diet Coke (which they are making again, hallelujah!). None of the kids has had any symptoms at all.

As a teacher, Husband could have taken the vaccine, but he and I have both chosen not to. I guess Husband will now have natural immunity. I will not go into a rant about how useless it appears taking a largely untested vaccine would be given that nothing will change on the mask-wearing and distancing fronts for the long term according to experts such as Dr. Anthony "I flip-flop on everything I've ever said about Covid" Fauci. I'm so tired of politics. I'm so very, very tired of it all. 

On the positive side, I feel very rested lately.

The Impulse to Have a Mid-Life Crisis

 Last week at work during lunch, Skyler said, "Eva, you've lived a very interesting life!" Tanner heartily agreed. I was suspicious for a moment that they were teasing me, but they were actually sincere. I know it's hard to believe, based on how me-centric this blog is, but I really don't talk about myself all that much at work, so with the stories I have told, I have accidentally but successfully curated my life to sound like a series of grand adventures. 

Well, my life has been a series of grand adventures mixed in with the daily minutiae. I grew up in the generation before the Internet, and my parents hated television and wouldn't buy one until I was in my teens, so if I was bored, I had to find a way to entertain myself. As a person without a lot of money, I had to be creative. I cultivated interests and hobbies from early childhood and usually had some exciting project or other that I was working on at any given time. I was always eager (even if I was also nervous sometimes) to see what was going to happen next and what I was going to learn and feel and do and who I would meet and learn to love along the way. I expected adventures, and so I lived a life of adventure. In some ways, I haven't changed all that much from that younger version of myself. Adventures still happen.

I do understand the impulse to have a mid-life crisis, however. Being middle-aged is somewhat like being in your eighth month of pregnancy with your third child: you feel like you've always been this way, you can't remember ever not feeling this way, and you're pretty sure you'll stay this way for the rest of your life. Everything seems so frustratingly hard to accomplish, and sometimes just having to walk makes you want to cry. Your body hurts and is doing bewildering things, everyone around you constantly needs something from you, and you're so, so tired all the time. In addition, you find yourself becoming invisible to society at large. Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if everything is just going to be hard and tedious and stressful until the day you die. It would be very natural to want to reclaim some of that starry-eyed wonder at life you had when you were younger.

I remind myself that--for this moment only--I'm a tired, overweight, middle-aged woman. I'll get older. Maybe I'll get skinnier. I can definitely use my increasing invisibility to do whatever the heck I want without caring what other people think (#lifegoals). But I have a great relationship with my children and husband and family and some beloved friends and have acquired some wisdom I didn't have when I was younger. Whatever happens, I am grateful for this particular adventure. 

Me and Sian last Christmas. I'm so proud of the woman she has become.

One adventure this week is getting Husband tested for Covid. He's been pretty sick, and, of course, you don't just have the flu or a cold anymore and just stay home until you're feeling better. No, you have to get tested, and you're only a person allowed to interact with society once again if you test negative.  I did stock up on groceries in case this happened, so we should be good if we have to finish out the 10-day quarantine. I'm going to make Indian chicken curry tonight, just for fun. 

The Field is White, All Ready to Harvest

Are you seated comfortably? Then let's begin.

I have big news:

Elannah has decided to serve a full-time mission!

Yes, she's dating a very nice young man, and yes, she is working herself into a career in elementary education (she decided that--despite her talent--a dental career is not for her), but she has made the decision to serve a mission.

It wasn't an easy decision for her. In fact, the Lord had to push her a bit, and He used me to do it. 

A couple weeks ago, we were sitting in our Sunday church meeting when I had a quiet but distinct impression that I needed to ask Elannah if she had thought about serving a mission. At the time, that was a strange question for me to ask her. I've asked her that before, and she wasn't enthusiastic about it, even though she has a strong testimony of the gospel. Her boyfriend, who is a returned missionary himself, was planning to propose in the next few months, and she was thinking she would say yes, even though she is only 19 (nearly 20). She loves her job as a preschool aide, and the district is paying her to get the education needed to become a preschool teacher. 

Yet the thought persisted.

I've learned to pay attention to those thoughts. Revelation usually doesn't come with thunder and lightning. For me, it's often a quiet thing, easy to dismiss if I'm not willing to pay attention; but these little revelations also tend to stick in my head. There's a slightly different quality about them, as if someone is whispering patiently but persistently in my ear to pay attention to this even while other thoughts race through my mind and I'm distracted by daily life. The last time something very much like this happened, the prompting I got led directly to Gabrielle meeting and marrying her amazing husband. I definitely want to be open to these inspirations and revelations as a mother.

Anyway, after the meeting, we were standing together as a family group when I blurted out the question to Elannah. There was no time for her to answer as we needed to go to the bishop's office and get Joseph and Little Gary ordained as a priest and a teacher, respectively, and I didn't bring it up again until the next day.

The next day, we were in the car together as she drove me to work, and I asked her again. I told her that I was asking her this question right now because I felt prompted to do so. She was a little upset and stressed, and the question bothered her quite a bit all day. She also talked to Husband about how it stressed her out (which he confided to me that evening). The day after that, Tuesday, in the car again, Elannah told me how stressed she was by the question because she felt like she had her life kind of worked out for the short term. I told her again that I felt prompted to ask and I didn't know why but that if the Lord was prompting me to ask her, there must be a reason. I also told her that I would pray and make sure I was truly being inspired to ask her, but I already knew the answer. As soon as I said it, I knew it was the right thing to do.

Something happened between Tuesday and Saturday last week that completely changed Elannah's mind. It's not my place to share what happened as it's not my story to tell, and it's quite sensitive or I wouldn't be so vague, but suffice to say that Elannah received a revelation that yes, she is supposed to serve a mission. Between one Sunday and the next, Elannah's entire plan for her life has radically changed. 

I give Elannah a lot of credit for how she's handled this. Once she knew what she was supposed to do, she jumped into that water with no hesitation. She's always been able to laser-focus on what she really wants, and she is not easily deterred when she is on a course and a mission. As just one example, when she was in elementary school, she constantly struggled with her lack of organization. By sixth grade, when she was 11, she was fed up with always having to play catch-up on assignments, and she wanted good grades. She told me she was going to change, and she did! By the end of her sixth grade year, she was getting her assignments in on time--often early. She got straight A's. In seventh grade, she struggled again but once more applied her stubbornness to fixing the issue, and again she organized herself and received excellent grades. This became her habit in life. In her high school career, she was able to participate on the ballroom dance team, in back-to-back theatrical productions, and in Show Choir while getting her assignments completed and keeping her grades very high. I have loved watching her grow like this. Her stubbornness and determination often manifest as positive focus and action

Now that she knows she is going to serve a mission, she has immersed herself in the study of the scriptures, which wasn't something on the top of her priority list before. She studied, but not with real conviction; now, she told me, she listens to the scriptures in the car all the time and she's thinking about the stories and the messages all day. She loves the effect this studying is having on her daily life. She feels like she's suddenly able to receive revelation like she's never been able to before, and her days just go more smoothly. She is excited to get her mission application papers filled out so she can help other people learn that they are loved by God and find peace and comfort in that knowledge.

I was telling my mother this news, and my mom reminded me that when I was pregnant with Elannah, I once told her that I had had a revelation that there were multitudes in heaven who were so excited and anxious for Elannah to come to earth, that she was so, so loved and admired, and that her mission in life would bless so many people. I had forgotten I said that, as I probably didn't write it down at the time, so I'm grateful my mother remembered me telling her. Hopefully that will be a thought that buoys Elannah up when hard times hit.  

Sophia, her older sister, is being very supportive, but she did warn, "She better not leave before my wedding!" Elannah has also been gently breaking this news to her boyfriend, but I think he is being supportive about it. At least on the outside. 

I'm proud of her. She's accepted this total change in her life with grace and aplomb (though not without some anxiety). She'll be a great missionary.