Manna 6, Quail 0, and Dancing to the Point of Exhaustion for Dessert

Yesterday was one of those really great days, in spite of my waking up at 1:30, severely dehydrated, with itchy ankles. I solved part of that problem with a tall glass of milk and some sweet potato fries, and the rest of it by going back to bed at 2:30 and sleeping until 7:30.

I woke up warm and relaxed. “Relaxed”, chez Ravelled, is a thing of such novelty that it is most decidedly blog-worthy.

Work was good but *intense* last week. I worked through my lunch on Friday, feeling cranky-determined to get those @#$% vacation letters out. Just before my early departure, I got a call from a coworker who had already left; her daughter’s leftovers were on a table by the printer. If I wanted them, there were tortillas and a container of queso. I took them with me and dipped flour torties in cold queso at stoplights, all the way to the temple. Not the world’s most elegant lunch, but it kept me alive and reasonably alert while serving in the temple. It felt like a hug from Heaven.

And while I was sitting in the chapel, my friend J plunked herself down next to me and grinned. She whispered that she had had the thought while driving over, that she should have called me and asked me to meet her there. And there I was! Afterward, we ate dinner at La Madeleine and talked until both of us were yawning.

There have actually been almost enough hugs the last few days. I got to hold a friend who had had an awful day and pray with her while she cried. J and I hugged a lot. I hugged Brother Sushi at the dance, and several other friends.

In the last little while, I have had that sense of exceptional watch-care from Heaven, almost a spoken “I will take care of you; I am taking care of you; are you paying attention, daughter?” I was even brave enough to ask, while in the temple, about the status and whereabouts of Brother Right. [Where it seemed as if I was safe in asking for what I want, and had a decent chance of getting an answer I could comprehend.]

When I was at the temple, I spotted two other friends: one from my ward and one from the singles program. It was great to see a guy I like and respect in the temple; if he asked me out, I wouldn’t spit in his eye, but there’s no sense of “oh please oh please” like I sometimes feel around other men. Speaking of whom, I have been quietly missing Trainman, and I am hoping to see him on the ride home tomorrow night.

Looks like one of my friends in my ward is also a fan of Meridian Magazine. She sent me this link. Get your hankies [but in a good way]. If you want to love somebody, serve them. It’s why parents love their kids so much, and in families where the kids get along, mutual service is why.

I think that is why I had such a great, if grueling, week last week. Many opportunities for small, unobtrusive acts of service. Last night I drove to the dance. Two sisters in my ward went with me. It was great to visit with them and get to know them better. Do I love them more than I did at the beginning of the evening? How could I not love women who know the same songs I do, and sing along with the radio, on-key, and understand how life works. I’m dragging one of them to choir practice tonight with me tonight. With my zills.

The dance was more fun than I’ve had in a long, long time. I could barely walk when we left, and I was a little afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed this morning, but I’m OK. [I didn’t get to bed until 1:30, and I slept until almost 7:00.]

The music, of course, was stellar.

I’m off to rustle up some grub and listen to a few more tapes in my audiobook. [I might even finish sorting through the paper that has piled up on my coffee table.]

I put up a Christmas decoration or two, yesterday. Not so much as you’d notice...