You might have noticed that I haven't written for a while; this is to let you know that I am in the repentance process, so hang in with me. Let me tell you how we spent one of our P-Days in May.
Computers and I are adversaries at best, and enemies at worst, and my sad tale will tell you why. Having labored over a letter for four hours (DOES ANYBODY ELSE DO THAT?), I was just about finished when Jack warned me that we had to get ready for FHE. So, I signed off and scrolled up to the top, where two buttons called to me: SEND & SAVE DRAFT. Hmmmmm. I knew that I should push send, but then again, shouldn't I save it first? That sounded so reasonable that I did push the save button, and POOF! the letter vanished into outer darkness.
Ohhhhhkaaay. I sucked it up like we learn to do in this life, put on my "I'm fine!" face, and went to Family Home Evening which can get quite interesting if certain people are there. We had eight in all, and after a good gospel discussion, Jack asked them if they wanted to play boules outside, or Uno? UNO!!! What a bunch of wild boys, they all want to be the winner so bad, even Sister Walter! I sat next to our new Elder Hill, and he didn't cow-tow to me like our departed Elder Gunter famously did. Then Alain Kos started mocking Elder Hill, saying that he was fat (he's not), but he didn't take it kindly, and mumbled to me how he should just go over and smite him some. No wonder Alain had all of his upper teeth knocked out in fights in the Foreign Legion . . . seeing that skinny face of his convulsed in open mouthed laughter was a sight to behold.
Elder Archer and Jack get along great because they think alike on missionary work. But this competitive Elder tries very hard to get the best of Jack whenever he can. This time he thought if he and Elder Hill sandwiched Jack between them, they could work together to beat him coming or going. Elder Hill was not above peeking at his cards if he could, and they caught him three times shouting Uno before he remembered to say it; but he won two games, as did both Sister Walter (who is a great sport putting up with all their boyish exuberance) and I. Then came the best part, what we all wait for . . . dessert. We had leftovers from the Branch brunch, and even some of Richard's often dubious concoctions (a sauce of mashed apples, pears and oranges) he begged us to finish--wasn't half bad.
Back at home, Jack said I should start my letter over while it was still fresh in my head (after all, now that I know what I am saying, it will zip right along). Uh huh. Can you possibly guess what happened to it again, several hours later? I'm not even going there, it's too painful.
I'm sure that's all you can take for now, so I'll write again soon. Take care of yourselves, and remember that we love you.
Sister Mom
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