Good day at work yesterday. We had a working lunch, catered by a local deli, and the meeting was both blessedly brief and truly interesting. The food was good, too, and I ate enough to refuel but not so much as to be drowsy. Half of the office took their lunch hour at the end of the day (i.e., got to leave that much earlier than usual; I was one of those), and the other half will do so today.
Came home and polished off my leftover fish and chips from Monday night, then went to the church for my meeting with Bishop (even more brief, interesting, and productive). After that meeting, I headed down to Secondborn’s to return the book I had borrowed when I had jury duty. Had a nice little visit with her
I *think* I am going to the temple tonight after work. I have some urgent, mundane stuff that needs doing; Mount Washmore is threatening to take over my hall, and I am the only likely candidate to deal with it. However, the laundry, like the poor, we will always have with us, and I try to favor the important over the urgent. Emphasis on the word try. Regardless of what Yoda said, in my life there most definitely is try.
As I wrote to a friend last night, I can feel winds of change beginning to move through my life. I think it must be like what happened when the angel “troubled the waters” at the temple (in the New Testament), and one person each year was healed. Not that I am feeling any great need for healing, at least on my own behalf.
I have no idea what’s ahead of me (I don’t usually get told anything as specific as I was when I asked Him why I was supposed to move to Fort Worth), but I almost always feel this way spiritually and emotionally before the next adventure happens.
Maybe the next adventure will be the discovery of a warp in the space-time continuum, and I will finally figure out how to seemingly get it all done in 24 hours because I have something like Hermione's hat or whatever that hat trick was that enabled her to play with time.
Naahhh, that would be too easy. And nowhere near elegant enough for the Father of All Blessings.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!