Gray Hair

I found a gray hair today. The length and texture surprised me more than its existence. Guess I’m officially joining the “older” group. I am forty (and a half), so it makes sense that my neck is getting crépe-y and my face is becoming more lined. Hailey said to pull it out. I told her it’s like the Hydra- if I pull it, more will just grow to replace the one hair. 😜

Sister Petrich

Julia has been out on her mission for about six months.  She seems to be doing so well, and learning so much.  We get to talk with her every Monday evening for awhile.  She served first at the Mormon Trail Center in Omaha, Nebraska, giving tours for about four months - the duration of the tourist season.  Then, she flew to Seattle, Washington, where she is serving the remainder of her mission.  It's been quite an adjustment for her, since people wanted to visit with her in Nebraska, and they generally don't want to hear what she has to say in Washington.  She told us last night that she has taken to hollering, "Hello," to people on the street.  They look at her funny, and then she acknowledges the awkwardness and continues talking to them.  I love her enthusiasm.  She will be home in about 1 year.  Even she can't believe how fast time is flying.  We are so very proud of her!

So Mad

I am so mad right now. I’m mad at just about everything. I’m especially mad that my church is being so complicit in the stupidity that is all things Covid. I’m angry that we were told by Elder Rasband that wearing a mask is “Christlike.”  I’m mad that I had to fight with the bishop and stake president for the right to have our extended family at Emery’s baptism yesterday. I’m mad that so few seem to have backbones. I don’t understand why so many don’t see what’s really going on. I’m ANGRY that Hailey has been so ostracized from the Young Women’s group because she cannot wear a mask. What’s “Christlike” about that? Why doesn’t Hailey matter? Why does everyone else’s comfort matter more than hers- or mine? Why does everyone seem to have their heads so far up their asses that they lose sight of what really matters—connection, human connection. 

I am so weary of it. I no longer have patience for stupidity. I cannot tolerate nonsense and I’m willing to get noisy about it. In fact, I sent a text to Hailey’s YW president a couple hours ago asking to talk with her; she hasn’t replied. I want to ask her why Hailey doesn’t matter. I want to tell her that she has participated in driving Hailey away and truly making it known to her that she isn’t welcome because of the mask thing. 

I am mad that even really good people don’t know or care that the prophet and first presidency never said to wear a mask. That doesn’t matter to them because the Utah area seventy said to, and Rasband said to, and that’s basically like the prophet anyway, right? 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Forget agency!!! Forget compassion, grace, and empathy. What really matters is that the collective feel “comfortable,”  truth be damned! 

Well, I’m not okay with that. I hate Sundays. All of this crap hits me in the face every Sunday and I have nothing else to distract me from it. I’m powerfully reminded of how ridiculous it all is, how little I matter to my ward, and how spineless most people are. I’ve lost so much respect for almost everyone in my ward and stake. 

It’s probably a really good thing you (whoever you are reading this) aren’t talking to me at this particular moment. I’m not good company. 

My Feet

This may be the strangest blog post I’ve ever written. It’s about my feet. I’m sitting here, filling up the bathtub to take an epsom salt bath, and I happened to really look at my feet. Without warning, I suddenly felt such awe and gratitude for them. I noticed the length of my toenails- I need to trim them. I noticed the dark hairs sprouting from my toes and the top of my feet, and didn’t mind them. I took in the pigment of my skin, my veins, the overall shape of my feet. Then I thought about all the things I can do because I have these feet. I can run (though I don’t 😂), I can walk wherever I need to, climb and balance (usually), and lead a fully “normal” life. I marveled that these two feet are mine! I get to keep them, and I love them. I am full of gratitude right now. It’s truly the little things that can bring joy. Like my (rather large for a woman) feet.