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Six 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!

Friday, June 01, 2018

Best workday in weeks. Maybe months.

I was well and truly blessed. And focused. And productive. And non-drowsy. At one point, I could feel my neck and shoulders starting to tense up, so I stopped what I was doing and spent a couple of minutes stretching out.

There are twenty-four more rounds to knit on the second sleeve, and then we get to see if the two sleeves are the same length.

I spent the best two and a half hours tonight, watching "Be One" on my phone and weeping for joy. Forty years ago today, I was (hugely) pregnant with Firstborn and working as a temp. One of the other secretaries burst into the room where I was working and announced, with eyes big as saucers, "The prophet has just had a revelation!" I remarked mildly that that was his job. Did she have any details?

Forty years ago today the priesthood was extended to all worthy brethren, regardless of race. Which meant that blacks of African descent could now serve missions, receive the ordinances of the temple, and be sealed in forever families. Their children could be born in the covenant, as mine were, and as Beloved's were. I was thrilled. (If any of my friends were not, I never knew.) The children's father was equally ecstatic.

I love President Nelson's teaching that racism, sexism, and other isms are not appropriate for members of the church. That we need to be building bridges and not walls. (I hope that was heard in Washington DC.) That we are all beloved children of the same Father, and that we need to follow the Savior and love God first, and then our neighbors.

Night, y'all. Play nice.

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