Christmas 2009 Christiansen Style

This year Christmas took us to the snowy northern lands of Logan, Utah.  Jeremy's brother, Jason, and his wife, Cansas, live there, and were gracious enough to house quite the crowd of Christiansens.  12 adults, 6 kids (including two babies and a toddler) later, I'm not sure they knew what hit them!

We arrived Wednesday night, just in time for some of Cansas' tasty sausage stew (note to Cansas--you should email out that recipe!).  Gavin (their 5 year old) greeted us at the door with a clip board in hand, ready to check us in, give us our room assignment (room 1), and have us draw numbers for our door prizes. Awesome.

Photo courtesy Jeanine

Jason and Cansas had set up a detailed itinerary (emailed out ahead of time) including things like morning calisthenics, sledding in the bowl of death, staring contests, and optional hygiene. It was awesome. We didn't end up doing everything on the itinerary, but there was plenty going on regardless, let me tell you.

Sledding did make the cut, however.

My first time donning a sled... and I must say, it's like Disneyland without a seat belt! And you know how much I love Disneyland. That's Jason and Gavin in the background. Gavin was DIE HARD. Wow. That kid has no fear. As for the sweet snow suits... it was a balmy14 degrees outside when we left the house. Hello Logan.

Christmas eve also brought all sorts of delectable delights (honey baked ham, my favorite cooked carrots, shrimp, waldorf salad, gingerbread cupcakes, and the list goes on).

Photo courtesy Jeanine

Since the babies (Raymond and Chloe) have pretty early bedtimes, we did our little nativity before dinner. It starred all six grand kids in residence. Raymond was a shephard, Chloe was the star, Sadie was a sweet little angel, Bauer was a wise man, Gavin was Joseph, and Bentley was Mary. The kids were surprisingly calm and all caught their cues.

Photo courtesy Jeanine

Isn't he the cutest little shepherd you ever did see? Pretty much.

Christmas morning was a bit chaotic (would you have it any other way?) Lots of toys. Lots of wrapping paper (Raymond was in heaven). And lots of delicious raspberry crepes. So fun!

After that the rest of the trip seems a blur. Let's see. A few games of settlers happened, some fantastic pinini sandwiches, an ugly sweater contest (I think Sadie's was cute too, just for the record), a sleigh/wagon ride and  herd of elk, Harry Potter 6, a handful of casualties (what's a holiday without some sickness?), and some seriously good napping for Raymond.

All in all, it was a party. Thank you Jason and Cansas!

We got home on Monday (Jeremy was one of the casualties, postponing our return a day). I've already taken down Christmas (whew!), tried out both my new vintage table cloth and the beautiful pieced table runner from my mom, and made a dehydrated an apple or two. Hello dehydrator for Christmas, my new permanent counter fixture, let's be good friends. Raymond is in toy HEAVEN. He went from owning a few handmade things by yours truely, to some serious toys. The kid couldn't be happier.

ps. don't judge the photography.  I know it's bad lighting and fuzzy and probably just no good (and mostly taken on my phone). But hey, I'm just plain not good at it.  Maybe Jackie will post her sweet shots soon and I'll replace some, ok?

I say potāto, you say potăto.

So we've noticed a little trend in our house.

Jeremy says TV (accent on the T)
I say TV (accent on the V)

Jeremy says Cedar City (accent on Cedar)
I say Cedar City (accent on City)

Jeremy says Raymond John (accent on Ray)
I say Raymond John (accent on John)


Obviously Jeremy prefers the trochee and the dactyl while I prefer anapestic and iambic meter.

Santa Mouse

I really, really, really wanted to make Raymond a stuffed animal for Christmas. You may recall my desire to make him a monkey before he was born. It never happened. I couldn't find a pattern (ahem, free pattern) that I liked enough. Plus, I've never really made a stuffed animal (the scads of bean bag frogs I've made don't count). So I needed a pattern, of that I was sure.

When I found this mouse pattern, I thought it would be a good place to start. It looked doable. I got a bit of white corduroy out of the $2 bin at Walmart, and used felt instead of wool as the accent fabric. So the whole thing was pretty darn cheap (maybe $2). And it didn't take me all that long either (about two days of sewing and stuffing intermittently). He turned out a bit fatter than I thought he would, but who wouldn't want to take a fat little mouse to bed Christmas night?

Skinny Bones Jones

Raymond John had his 6 month check up today.  I keep trying not to stress out over the fact that his weight is in the 13th percentile (while his height is in the 73rd!). Looks like he's got his papa's genes. I think all the chub of his whole body is concentrated in his cheeks (which makes them oh so kissable). What's a mama to do?

The oft told tale

painting by J. Kirk Richards 

I love, at this time of year, to try to imagine the detail of Jesus' birth.  What was Mary like? What of Joseph? What happened in that small stable when the shepherds came?  Did they notice the star hanging overhead? The other night we watched this program on BYU TV (showen originally Sunday, December 6th at 7pm) about the birth of Christ.  I loved how they slowed down the story and piece by piece talked about the events surrounding that sacred night.  And I am reminded that

"Always at this beautiful season, we repledge ourselves to His work--and invite all people everywhere to join us in our prayers of joy and love and gratitude for the life and teachings of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, the Son of God."  --President Spencer W. Kimball

Giving Good Gifts

Raymond and I have spend a huge amount of time like this (how much do I love the Bumbo my sister loaned me? Mucho):

Me sewing, him playing.  Would you look at that happy face? Naps and bedtimes work miracles, I tell ya.

So I've been steadily working on Christmas gifts for a solid two (plus) months now.  Planning and scheming began in September, sewing officially began in October. I'm not quite done (although hopefully all the needed supplies have been purchased).

From the beginning I've prayed earnestly and sincerely to be able to give "good gifts."  The Christmas budget was tight and the plan has been to make everything. It's required thought, prayer, and work.  Over and over, almost daily, I've been praying to be able to give "good gifts." Do you know what I mean? The kind that is a pleasant surprise, an unexpected thrill, and most importantly, a tangible evidence of my love for that person.

In my family we don't draw names at Christmas, we give to everyone.  While I have had a few moments of feeling overwhelmed with the enormity of it all, I have loved thinking about each person throughout each step of planning, sewing, and wrapping. It has been a sweet, sweet experience.

In Jeremy's family we draw names.  I've had mixed emotions about it.  On the one hand, I would be making an additional 14 gifts (added to the more or less 25 already on my list! I would definitely have to start earlier. Like in January.)... on the other hand, I keep finding myself sad that I don't get to make or give anything to most of his siblings.  Often while working on a gift for someone else, I've thought, "this is something Cansas would like!" or "Maybe I'll have to make one for Sadie anyway and give it later!"  I've missed not getting to think about them as I make for them, you know?

While it has been an intense couple of months, and I don't plan on making all my gifts every year, I've already come to treasure this Christmas. I've learned so much about what it means to give good gifts (which sometimes means giving what I would want most to someone else, and sometimes means taking a lot of time to make something that isn't my style at all, but I know the other person would love). Even though most of my gifts are small, and my sewing is imperfect, each one is filled with love and time and sacrifice.

Yesterday's quote on my advent quote calendar summed up my thoughts on gift giving this year:

"Christmas gifts should be in memory of the divine gift--the life of Jesus Christ.  His gift gave us eternal life; our gifts should enliven with joy those who receive them. His gift was teh sacrifice of his earthly life, our gifts should represent personal sacrifices on our part." --John A. Widtsoe

 I hope that you're Christmas is filled with the giving of good gifts (made or bought) and that the gifts you give are in memory of the divine gift.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas

How much do I love the Church's topic pages (always found in the left-hand sidebar of lds.org)? So much. This one even has coloring pages and activity ideas for kids. Not to mention great ideas for how we can focus our Christmas on what matters most.  And a sweet little Mormon Messages video. Go and make yourself at home.

Merry Christmas!

Our wee man child

A day late and a dollar short, I know. I was all set to post pictures yesterday when we had some serious internet woes. When it finally decided to kick back on, Jeremy needed the computer to finish a paper. But, I promise not to disappoint today. Oh me, oh my, the pictures! If you don't want to gobble this boy up after seeing them...

He sure loves his papa.

And he patiently endures all our kisses and rasberries.

Would you look at that sweet face?

It seems we have a smiler on our hands, folks!

Oh the sweetness of cousins...

Chase, what's wrong?

Oh how that pacifier works wonders!

Yeah, I'm just chillin in my chair.

Raymond has an uncanny knack for raising one eyebrow at a time. Really, it's just a flicker, so I wondered if Stanford would capture it on film. Here it is, folks. I see this fun face a hundred times a day, and I never get tired of it!

So can you believe it's his half birthday on Saturday? Me either. Six sweet months in mortality.  Oh how we love our Raymond John.

Thank you, Stanford, for so many wonderful photos (I didn't even post a fraction of them). You captured all his personality perfectly.

Goodness gracious (Thanksgiving) gravy!

 photos by Jeremy

I have always loved Thanksgiving. For as long as I can remember we have gone to my Aunt Chris's house in Redlands, California.  She now lives in the historic side of town (in a 100 year old house... see picture above), and I love it. I love everything about her house (from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves or the chickens in the back). And I love everything about Redlands. It is, as Jeremy has come to agree, a perfect town.  And I love, most of all, spending Thanksgiving there.

As is tradition, the setting of the table is as important as the filling of the plates. This year did not disappoint. My aunt has special Thanksgiving china (in appropriate browns and creams) that compliment her beautiful crystal goblets and sterling silverware.  The effect is always so beautiful. 

photos by Stanford

The day itself is never overly stressful (minus the 30 minutes before mealtime). We lounge about, read books, chat, watch football (well, the boys do), take pictures, munch of the goodies strewn about the house, slowly get the meal organized. And then dinner is somewhat of a fancy affair. As little kids we had to change our clothes and look nice. It's not super formal by any means, but we try to match the festiveness of the table at least a little bit.  I love it. All that polite "Please pass the potatoes" and "where's the gravy gone?" does my heart good.

I think Quinn officially did the honors of clicking this one. Stanford did the arranging.

This year's big excitement was that Tate (my Aunt Chris's son) came home from anesthesiology school in New York and was bringing his new fiance, Eleece. It was so fun to meet her and welcome her into the family.

That, and the excitement of having a photographer in the family to take all sorts of fabulous pictures. Stanford took some so-cute-I-want-to-cry pictures of little Raymond John. I would post pictures of that, but I've been working on this post for nigh onto 24 hours now. I must move on with life. Cute pictures of Raymond promised tomorrow...

A sneak peek

Of an absolutely wonderful Thanksgiving.

(Pretty much Stanford rocks.)

We're headed out

For the rest of the week. I know, I know, it's not like I've been posting much anyway.  But we'll be back come Monday! Hopefully with pictures to your heart's content.

Cheers!

Sew, Mamma, Sew!

So I am alive. Just been a bit busy. You see, I will have chance to give all my family their Christmas presents (to be safely tucked under their trees) in a week or so... and so I sew.  It's been well over a month now of some serious gift making in the making. I can't post pictures (for obvious reasons), but let's just say I'm excited. I've had fun planning and projecting.  It will be just as fun giving them. And then hearing all about it in a month! Oh ho, I am so very excited for this holiday season!

Happy Thanksgiving to you!

(Sorry, just can't quite wish anything else just yet. Thanksgiving must not be forgotten! Enjoy the Spirit of Thanksgiving here.)

How do I love thee?

I think I am getting more socially awkward lately.  And I think it's because I'm worried more about what to say (when I don't know what to say) instead of letting go of all pretense and genuinely listening and caring about whomever I am talking to.  I want too much to say the right thing.

This morning I was reminded (while rereading an old study journal) of something I observed another MTC teacher teaching missionaries back when I worked there. She was reviewing a practice teaching situation they had just had. Bless their hearts.  They had been so concerned with teaching their lesson (remembering all the principles, going in the right order, switching back and forth successfully), that they hardly paid any attention to whomever it was they were teaching. A common thing in the MTC.  This good teacher taught those missionaries that teaching (and I would say living) can be like looking in a mirror or looking in a magnifying glass.

When we live by looking in a mirror, all we are concerned about is how we're doing. (Did I say the right thing? Did that make sense? What are they thinking about me? Etc.) Living by looking through a magnifying glass, however, happens when we focus in on whomever is sitting in front of us. We look deep into their hearts and really listen to what they say, and what they don't say. It is noticing the details. It is, by far, a more Christlike way to live.

I have been thinking about all these things today as I put off calling up the girls I visit teach and making appointments.  Is making that phone call hard for anyone else?  I always feel like I am bothering them.  Which is strange, because I would gladly welcome such a call from my own visiting teachers. I havn't been visited myself in almost four years.  I keep hoping with every move and new ward that it's going to happen.  I really, honestly, would love to have them.  So why do I feel like a burden to call the girls I'm assigned?  Why do I think they wouldn't want to be visited?  Sigh.  Why do I worry more about what to say than about finding out what is going on in their lives? 

I need to live more like I'm looking through a magnifying glass than a mirror. I need to welcome them into my life and hope that they will do the same.  As Elder Holland so eloquently teaches, the same is true for all our relationships. The question is how do I love thee? And I want the answer to be: as Christ does.

watch here.

Carrying on the tradition

Growing up, my mom was (is) the master of church activities. I can't even tell you how many times I saw her load up our minivan with half her sewing room in order to teach a craft or sewing project, decorate a cultural hall, organize a temple Youth Celebration, or direct a stake play.  We're talking big time activities here.  She is the master organizer, planner, and presenter. Nothing is too big or too much work for my mamacita. She firmly believes that her commitment to the gospel fully encompasses everything she can give to every calling, activity, and assignment that comes her way. Those of you who know her, know what I'm talking about. It's impressive.

So when I was put on the (now called) Relief Society Committee in my married ward, I must say I felt a little hidden intimidation. Firstly because I've never had this calling before (and the unknown is always a bit more daunting than the known), and secondly because there are some high expectations coming down through the generations.

Last night my training (as Cindy Torgerson's daughter) was put to the test. I was in charge of my first "small group" (of what was formerly (HFP) Enrichment) activity. The craft group.  If you haven't noticed, my world these days seems to be taken up completely by All Things Baby (honestly, when was the last time I post something philosophical? They are few are far between, that's for sure).  So obviously, the theme carried over to our activity. I've learned in the last few months that these little guys carry a pretty hefty price tag (all worth it, of course). But if there are ways and places you can cut the cost corners, I try to find them.  There are somethings that I just can't make for little Raymond John... but the things I can, I do. I needed to share my money-saving baby-making skills with all the new (and soon to be new) mamas in my ward.

I brought supplies (yes, half my sewing corner, I swear was packed and hauled to the church in Cindy Torgerson fashion) and patterns for baby: bibs, burp cloths, plush balls, and soft rings.  Only about half the crowd expected came, but those who did, made some beautiful new baby things. Success! I can't even tell you how much good it did my little heart to see all those sewing machines a-whirring.  I have learned to really love to sew lately (as meger and simple as my projects are).  Almost everyone who came had their own machine, but admitted to hardly ever using it. Fingers crossed, all those pretty little Singer machines put to use last night won't be tucked back into the closet, but put out on the desk and loved.

We made some:

Plush balls

Soft Rings

burp cloths

and bibs.

So fun!

The world of food

There are so (SO) many opinions out there on just when and how to start your baby on "solid" foods. It can be a bit overwhelming, to be honest. For quite a few reasons I've been dragging my feet and trying to hold off on anything that isn't mother's milk. Jeremy, on the other hand, has been anxious to jump in as soon as the Dr. gave the go-ahead (at the four month check up). I would probably still be dragging my feet if Raymond wasn't chomping at the bit to get anything and everything in his mouth.

He fits all the "ready" requirements on most lists (supported sitter, over 13 lbs, mouthing things, teething, anxious, etc.). That and he still nurses every 1.5-2 hours. So far that's seemed to be enough, but in just the last few days it suddenly hasn't. I was adamant, however, that we would wait until he was at least five months. Which happened yesterday. So my excuses were up. Today was the lucky day.

He did much better than I thought. He actually swallowed some, I think. He was hungry for it--reaching and shoving that spoon in his mouth with gusto. The adventure has begun...

Happy Halloween!

We hope your night is filled with pumpkins and costumes and trick-or-treat fun!

Saucey little redhead

Can you see it? The peach fuzz that had a definite redness to it? Yup, it's getting longer (or at least thicker). Does a mother's heart good.

four months, 1 week

height: 25 1/2 inches (66%)
weight: 13 lbs 13 oz (22 %)
head circumference: 15 1/2 inches (20%)

Today we went for a walk--despite the fall bluster. Not far. Just to the swings, in fact. Raymond usually likes to swing in my lap for an indefinite amount of time. Today we learned that he loves to swing in the kiddy swing for an indefinite amount of time. His laughter was joyous to behold!

He's turned into a pretty regular sleeper. Bedtime every night is between 6:00 and 7:00pm. Most nights he doesn't wake up until between 2:00 and 4:00am. Then he's up for an hour or so between 5:00 and 6:00 (always back down no later than 8:00am). The rest of the day is filled with naps every two hours. Usually it ends up being about three naps a day for an hour or two each. Whew! (Not that you really wanted to know all this information... I'm just extremely proud of the facts, not going to lie).

He loves to play with his "toys" (wire whisks, measuring spoons, etc.). He can roll back to front and front to back. he loves to read (his favorite books are about animals). He loves, loves, loves music of every sort (particularly singing by his mama). And he loves to eat.

To life, to life, l'chaim!

I must say that I love birthdays. They are a celebration of LIFE. The good stuff. The one year older and the getting wiser. I love getting older. Weird, I know. I have none of that poor-pity-me feeling when a birthday comes around. There is so much living to happen in the next year, and I love getting to add that year onto my age tally. Each one is such an adventure; there are so many unknowns in what is around the corner.

And not only all that good stuff of what's coming, but the day itself is such a celebration. This morning started early (5am... perhaps a bit earlier than desired, but I'll take it) and quickly brought without it presents and "happy birthdays" and cupcakes with breakfast. Mmmm. All of my gifts so far were such a surprise (all the Harry Potters! Muffin tins! Beautiful red yarn! I know what I'll be doing today). And there is so much more birthday goodness to come. Phone calls and quality Jeremy time tonight. And just that special tingle deep down all day that says: I am alive and it matters!

So please forgive me for behaving like a giddy 10 year old (have you noticed how many italics and exclamation points this post already occupies? I've had to delete at least 5 exclamation points in rereading because it really was a bit much)... but

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!
photos by Stanford Richins at Not Another Picture

Why I'm glad we didn't wait

I am glad we didn't wait to start having kids. For those of you who haven't done the math, Raymond was born pretty darn close to nine months after we were married. It was a conscious decision we both made before we were married. This was one of those things we were on the same page with almost immediately. In fact, I would venture say it was a "selling point" while dating. We both wanted it. We both felt strongly about it. We were both ready. It has proven to be a wonderful blessing; here are some of the reasons why (not listed in order of importance):

• Pregnancy created an immediate interdependence. I'm sort of independent gal--I like to do things my own way. I love being self reliant. But I quickly learned while pregnant that I needed help. I needed support. I needed a husband. This has only increased with the arrival of the wee one.
  
• It put everything into perspective financially. From day one we were forgoing and saving on account of needing our resources for something other than ourselves. We quickly had to learn to live within our budget and get ourselves financially able to support another (entirely dependent) little person.
• I am not as young as I used to be (an obvious statement). AKA I only have so many child bearing years in me. And we want a large family. I get giddy thinking about all the other little people who will come into our family, and I'm so grateful one is already here!
• Raymond himself is such a blessing in our lives. His steady penetrating gaze. Those tender little snuggles. The beauty of his smile and joy of his laugh. Living with such a tiny human spirit gives so much more depth to life than I ever knew was possible.
• The Plan of Salvation has become more tangible than ever before. I remember teaching the Plan of Salvation over and over again as a missionary. I remember feeling anxious then to begin my own family. And here it is. The Abrahamic promise that "your seed shall be as the sands of the sea" takes on new meaning when one small and precious piece of sand is placed in your hands.
• Incredible financial blessings have come as we have followed the prophets' counsel to multiply and replenish the earth. The support of heaven has been miraculous to behold.
• Adjusting to marriage has always simultaneously been an adjustment to a family for us. Going from two to three has not felt like the sacrifice it perhaps would have if we had had an extended amount of time with the freedom of, say, date nights without babysitters.
• As in no other job, no other role, no other capacity, I feel like I am being stretched and molded, fine tuned and placed in the refiner's fire as I begin this adventure called motherhood. And yet it feel so natural, so comfortable, so calm--this life I lead. It is like a modern dance piece: organic and dynamic while using every muscle to its limit. Life has taken on a beautiful and new rhythm.
  

I know this is a somewhat controversial topic (ok, obnoxiously controversial topic), and I am by no means trying to pass any sort of judgment on you or your situation by this post. I also know there are sadly many people who don't want to wait to have children but are forced to--struggling with infertility. My heart breaks for them. But we all press forward, right? Doing the best we can and making righteous choices.

"I give my name unto the world..."

I have again and again gone over Elder Holland's powerful message given in General Conference on Sunday afternoon. With simplicity and yet elegance, he testified of the truthfulness and divinity of the origin of the Book of Mormon. He was straightforward and unyielding in his witness of the Book of Mormon being the Word of God. In the spirit of his message, I wish to also "give my name unto the world" that I know the book to be true, written by ancient prophets upon the American continent and translated by the power and authority of God given to Joseph Smith.

When I was eight years old and a newly baptized member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I felt the need to know for myself that the book was true. I felt that as an official "Mormon," I must read the Book of Mormon. I opened my newly acquired quadruple combination and began with the story of Lehi and Nephi and their journey to the promised land. It took me a long time to read the book that first time through. My favorite reading spot was amongst the piles of pillows along one side of our couch and hidden from view by the recliner. I often kept my scriptures tucked behind the pillows for easy access the next time I wanted to read. I remember not understanding most of what was going on, but feeling determined to read it all the way through, confident that with future readings it would become more clear. I finished sometime after my nineth birthday.

The ending chapter of the Book of Mormon contains a promise to all who read the book--inviting us to ponder the words of the book, and then with pure intentions to ask God if the book is true. I don't recall whether I offered such a prayer as a nine year old or not. But over the years, as I read the book again and again, my testimony of the book has become sure and steadfast.

Sometime during my early teenage years I began daily scripture study, focusing on the Book of Mormon. Countless times it has been a sourse of inspiration, comfort, solice, and direction. It is indeed the centerstone of my testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If ever during my teenage years I had cause to question or doubt a principle or doctrine taught by the church, I would always go back to my deepening conviction that the Book of Mormon is true. And if it is the word of God, then Joseph Smith must have been his prophet, and the rest follows.

When I was 21, I was called to serve as a missionary for the church in Honduras. Every single day my companion and I would load copies of the Book of Mormon in our bags to give out during the day. I loved to carry a book in hand as I walked, eager to draw attention to the pictures at the beginning of the book that illustrate the Savior as being the center figure of the book.

I loved to teach the Message of the Restoration (the first lesson)--which testifies of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. I had a companion (Hermana Roldan) who always refered to the Book of Mormon as "el tesoro de las americas" (the treasure of the americas). She would hold the book firmly in both hands and commit our investigators to read from its pages. I cannot forget the urgency she felt for helping the people understand the magnitude and import of the plain navy blue book she gripped in her hands. She loved the Book of Mormon.

In the places I served in Honduras, most of the adults we taught could not read well or at all. It was hard for me at first to know how to help them gain a testimony of the Book of Mormon when reading even a single verse was taxing and confusing for them. I worked hard to explain it's origin and purpose simply and clearly. I would commit them to read a few verses, a short chapter, or to listen to one of their children read a passage. So many never read. It was their stumbling block. But those who did--and who followed the invitation to sincerely pray to know if the book is true, were converted.

I try to not let a day go by without reading from the Book of Mormon. It is the solid ground I wish to walk on daily. Generally my rule is that I will not read anything else (magazines, novels, etc) until I have read from the Book of Mormon each day. I have found my reading to be the most pentrating when I read with a pen in hand in order to write my thoughts down as they come. And a colored pencil easily accesible for marking key scriptures and cross references. I love the stories of the Book of Mormon. They have become familiar and comforting over the years as I read them again and again, finding parallels in my own life. But even more, I love the constant reminder that Jesus is the Christ. That He is the sure foundation we must build upon. That declaring His gospel and coming unto Him is how we will find peace in this life. The Book of Mormon is filled, page after page, with testimony of the Savior. I know that it is a true book. I know it contains God's word and will for us, His children.

In the spirit of the Book of Mormon, I invite you to read or reread its inspired pages. I invite you to ponder anew it's message of peace, hope, and faith. I invite you to give your name unto the world that you also know the book to be true.

Welcome October!

photo from here.

I know I'm a day late, but I just can't tell you how happy it makes me that October has arrived! Welcome pumpkins and wool sweaters and changing leaves!

I have always loved October. The fact that it starts with General Conference makes it eagerly anticipated weeks ahead. And then a week or so later is my birthday (and I love birthdays). And then the fall leaves start swirling (and sometimes the snow). My wool sweaters have been pulled out of hiding. The warmer quilt has been reinstated on our bed. Our morning walk has become an afternoon walk (during the warmer part of the day). And candy corns fill the grocery store aisles.

Does it get much better? I just don't know.