Yesterday after lunch I happened to glance out the window. On the mountain near my office there was a huge festival going on! There was a big canopy up and lots of cars and tons of people. It was a beautiful, sunny day - perfect for a festival.
Then it dawned on me. The mountain behind us isn't a park....
It's a cemetery.
And my festival...was actually a funeral. Face palm.
Piper plays hide-and-seek. Seriously. She sits in the family room and waits for me to hide. Then, as soon as I say, "Okay, come find me" she jumps up and starts tearing through the house to find me. When I hide somewhere new, she runs through the whole house and then stops outside the family room door and cries for a minute before starting the search again. It's pretty hilarious. For the dog who doesn't hold still long enough to lay down on command - it's pretty impressive that she can search for me in a house full of distractions and people without getting distracted. And she is so proud of herself when she finds me! It's pretty cute. And I decided if she's smart enough to play hide-and-seek ... she's smart enough to write my Anthropology papers for me...right?!
"I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross. On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth. It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God. I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest. But the doom of that day did not endure. The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.
Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come."
-Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, October 2006 General Conference
I hope this Friday is not a dark one - but if it is, hang on. The sun WILL rise and Sunday WILL come!
Does it take to turn off a fire alarm? Five. And a hammer, screw driver and crow bar.
Saturday I met up with a bunch of wardies to clean the building. Another ward was having a breakfast while we were there and they managed to set off the fire alarm. Apparently no one has keys to the closet where the alarm is. And apparently it goes off so often that the fire department doesn't even bother responding any more. So...after an hour of cleaning to the beat of the fire alarm...five high priests and an elder from our ward finally took the hinges off the door. Is it sad that my Saturday morning was so boring that sitting at the church for an extra hour just to watch the guys break open the door was exciting???
Last week a friend of mine kept saying how tired she was - much more tired than usual. Every day she was so exhausted and she couldn't figure out why. Then she happened to look at the box of tea she had been drinking all week - it was sleepy time tea. BAH HA HA!