My Coolness

Did anyone notice how cool it is that you can click on my picture to the right to get to my blog?
Yep, it's just that cool.
Also, I miss my Andy.
A lot.
I may or may not be watching the posted videos of him over and over....

Cool Me

Cute Andy

Dedication

The Temple dedication itself turned out to be even a greater experience than I could have expected. All four of us (Mark, Camilla, and Katrina first, and then my turn a few minutes later) got to see Matt's mom, who was ushering. She took a picture of the other three outside the temple. She gave me a hug (we were inside at that point so a picture wouldn't have been good!). One of the other choir members pointed out that I was the only one of the choir who got a hug from the usher. Jealous. Then Mark, Cam, and Trini got to sit in probably one of the best seats in the house--an endowment room (happened to be the aspen-mural one) so they got padded seats and a big screen to watch the proceedings on. (I, on the other hand, had a hard folding chair and a small monitor where I was. I did, however, get that other benefit of getting to actually go into the Celestial room for parts of it.)

The dedication was great. The first speaker, particularly, kept making me think of Mark because he talked about being the first member in his family and doing a lot of temple work for his family and ancestors. I had lots of thoughts of family because another speaker talked about going through the open house with his 7-year-old grandson whose favorite part, he said afterwards, was "being in the Temple with you, Grandpa." We were sitting in kind of an open area right next to a main set of stairs and had to wait in our seats afterwards just a few minutes while other people exited before we could exit, and while I was waiting I got to see my family pass by. Because I was on the end of the row, I got to reach out and give them each a squeeze of the hand (although they were all expecting "bone" and I disappointed at least one of them in that respect). That was an unexpected pleasure--to see them right there by me.

We hadn't known ahead of time which General Authorities would be there, so when we saw President Monson, President Uchtdorf, and Elder Perry walk in and take their seats, those of us on that side realized we would be standing right behind them. (Fortunately I was kind of between President Uchtdorf and Elder Perry so it wasn't so quite so scary.) But in spite of all the numerous warnings (and there were many!) as we came in the second time, I accidentally bumped Elder Perry's chair. Well, more like brushed it. It was as I turned around to get into position. It rattled me so badly I really struggled through that next song. But after we got back to our seats, the lady next to me said she bumped a chair, too, so I felt better. Mark can't believe I let it bug me so much, but he doesn't realize how much they drilled it into us not to do that and how careful I had been up to that point. And I made sure I didn't do it again!

The most memorable thing for one of the members of the choir, unfortunately, was my all-time greatest fear: she passed out during the final song. She had started feeling sick maybe 15 minutes before that, went into the restroom to "toss her cookies," felt better and thought she'd be okay. But just a little ways into the song she started teetering so the people on either side of her grabbed her arms and let her down gently to the floor while we all kept singing and the poor director looked so confused and distressed. Apparently the camera had been on her just before the teetering moment (when her eyes started fluttering, unnoticed by my family, but some who knew her saw it) but the camera stayed off of the scene while the rest of this took place. Anyway, a couple men from the congregation came up, we made room for them (all the while singing away like nothing was happening at our feet), they got her up (she started to come to right away) and once she could figure out what was going on, they helped her out.

When the final song was done, we stood waiting during the closing prayer and then were supposed to wait a moment while the General authorities exited. President Uchtdorf and President Monson turned around and told us we did a beautiful job. In fact, President Uchtdorf first directed his comments to me! (He was speaking about the choir, not about me, but he looked right at me when he spoke--Mark could see it on the camera.) And President Monson expressed his concern for the lady who had passed out. Hey--that's something for her to feel good about! So that was one benefit of standing right behind them. We did get to be spoken to by them. (And I guess it's okay that we said thank you in response.) Elder Perry didn't yell at me about the chair-bumping incident.

But my best thing of all (well, non-spiritually speaking) was that our group got vindicated. They told us during our warm-up time that the other choirs had been taking longer than expected to get in place, so not to run but to move as quickly as we possibly could into position. The whole group practically erupted into cheers, saying they were going to get back to that 27 seconds, possibly shave it down to 25 seconds, etc. My friend even told me to go for it because she knows how fast I can walk. We weren't told how fast we did it this time, but I did my part to move us in quickly. We had been warned before the dress rehearsal that people tend to slow down when they hit the doorway of the Celestial room because they become overwhelmed. I can promise I didn't do that. I am one focused, obedient woman. You tell me to look straight ahead and get into position as quickly as possible, that's what I'm going to do. I also did not look around the room (as instructed). I looked only at the speaker or at our director (like we were told!). So I didn't even realize there were people in there that I knew until somebody told me afterwards.

(p.s. I know nobody reads this except my family and they've all heard these stories, but I'm putting them on here so I have a record. Thanks for your patience.)

Got Myself in Trouble

Katrina feels validated. I just felt stupid. For the Temple Dedication Choir (session #3) that I'm singing in, I'm on the end of one of the rows--started out on the second row but got bumped to the front row because I couldn't see, much to my dismay (being bumped to the first row--I didn't care that I couldn't see). Anyway, walking into the Celestial room to sing (we don't stay in there the whole time, just come in to sing and then leave again), I have to lead our row in at the same time as the second row. They stressed over and over how we had to hurry, had to do the whole thing in no more than 35 seconds because that's how long it took each of the first two choirs to get into position, etc. So not even thinking about my walking speed except to realize that at the time I was wearing my silly skirt that won't let me take big steps so it was slowing me down, I walked as quickly as possible as I led the group in and into position. Well, we were thrilled when we heard we had shaved 8 seconds off the record and did it in a mere 27 seconds! And then the guy said, "Um, you looked hurried." We said, "But you told us to hurry." And then he said, "I hate to say this, but you went too fast." Couldn't even believe it. I kind of quietly said, "If you don't want to go fast, then don't put me in the front of the line." It honestly didn't occur to me that I shouldn't walk my normal fast pace--I forget that I have an abnormal walking speed. Guess the family is right. But we probably beat all the other groups!! Eight seconds!!!! Take that you other choirs!!

Aunt Eva

Since I went to her graveside service yesterday, I decided to list my favorite memories of Aunt Eva. Mostly I think I loved her chuckle--that deep, rumbling chuckle which she used so frequently. At her funeral, they mentioned how she loved people, which was obvious in how she acted towards us every time we visited. There was mention of the murals on her walls, and I know we always looked for the flagpole out front. (There was a flagpole out front of every place they lived in.) Nobody loved food and chocolates the way she did. Our St. George visits just won't be the same. As her children and grandchildren talked about her I kept thinking how funny it was they were talking about our Eva like she was theirs, when she was really ours!

The one funny thing about yesterday was when I mentioned to Uncle Juel's daughter-in-law that Uncle Juel had performed Dad's and my marriage. Her face was so priceless--such a look of utter shock and disbelief. She said all their daughters had wanted him to perform their marriage but he just wouldn't. He wouldn't ever get special permission to perform it at another temple. Her husband mentioned the same thing. He said his dad just really didn't like performing the marriages and that we must have been married at the temple where he was assigned as a sealer. I explained to both of them that we did get married at the Provo Temple where he was a sealer and that we did it soon after he became a sealer. After thinking about it for a while, I wondered if perhaps he learned from our wedding that live weddings of relatives were too stressful for him. (He mentioned later to my mother or someone that he was more nervous at our wedding than any others he had done.) I felt a bit guilty that we got something his own grandchildren didn't, but as Katrina* pointed out, I am the daughter of the Palsy-Walsy which is probably even more important!

This picture was the best I could do. It's from the day of our wedding, out in front of the temple. See how young we looked! And how young Beverly and Joyce (on either side of us) looked! That's Aunt Eva and Uncle Juel next to Joyce. Then Carlene, Dave, and my Grandma Hardy. Time flies too, too fast. And next thing you know, there's a cute little grandson walking around.

*I originally credited the Palsy-Walsy reference to Mark, but Katrina had really pointed it out to me. Sorry, Katrina!

Quote

I was bored and was looking up quotes. I ended up running across this a few funny ones:

Whoever said, 'Anything is possible,' obviously never tried slamming a revolving door.

 It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives. 

Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.

A husband was complaining about how women talk so much. His wife replied, "Well that's just because women always have to repeat what they say for the men." The husband replied, "What?"

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did, in his sleep -- not screaming, like the passengers in his car.

Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.

A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing.

There is a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot

The road to success is always under construction

Our New Sofa (Settee)

Here's a picture of our new sofa (technically called a settee, whatever that means!). Since we ordered it by a picture, without ever having sat on a sample of one, we had no idea what it would feel like and went on faith that it would be okay comfort-wise speaking. Didn't count on the height being ill-fitting for the vertically-challenged member of the family.

Not sure you can tell from this video, but Katrina can't touch the ground. Actually, I can barely touch the ground, but we think it will settle when it gets worn in a little. As soon as I sat on it the first time, I just laughed, thinking of how it was going to be for Katrina--so before I let her sit down when she came home the first time, I ran for the camera. Poor girl! We love our short one. It fits Camilla just fine, though. (Some people remembered to grow their legs.)

I'm What?

I forgot to post my funny story from last week. I am the chorister for the ward, so I generally don't really look at the program-- since I know what songs they are anyway (I choose them). So I got to church last week and sat down, chatting with my roommates, when Heather leaned over and said, "You're speaking today?"
"I'm...what?"
Never heard from any member of the bishopric about this, and I hadn't even been there in weeks, since I had been on Christmas break, then a farewell, then Seattle. Welcome back, I guess. So before the service started, I went up to the front and brought it up. The one announcing said, "Yeah, you're right, you're not speaking," and corrected it. The bishop just laughed about it, and the other counselor said, "What do you mean you're not? We had you planned for 20 minutes!" I told him I could do a tap number, but I wasn't very prepared for that.
Anyway, I just thought it was funny. "Bishop? I was never informed that I was supposed to speak today..."