What with one thing and another . . .

. . . one day passed.

Up at 0215.

Work, work, work.

Go home.

Make cookies and lunches.

Go to the chapel and help set up for the RS Christmas party (second party in 4 days). Party.

HH's Christmas Quiz was a real challenge. Nobody got more than 3 versions of A Christmas Carol. Nobody guessed when the Battle of Trenton was, and even the answer sheet said it was 1977. I know the Revolutionary War did not last that long.

Clean up. Practice choir part. Go home and go to bed at 2130.

How many hours does that make? Um . . . . .19 and some change.

Ugh.

And the Winner Is . . .

With strength of will characteristic of her, Daughter #1 waited until Sunday to open that large envelope from the church that would give her all the information she ever wanted to know about her mission, including where she would be going. She waited until Relief Society, the women's meeting. Usually there are only women in there. Sunday the Bishop was there, Small Son was there, my friend Connie Who Never Comes to Relief Society was there, various other men were there, all the Young Women came in. Standing Room Only!

We made her stand up in front of the room. She slit open the envelope, pulled out the letter, and said, "It seems I will be going to . . .

[gasp!]

KOREA!"

There was a huge collective, reciprocal gasp from the attending crowd, then everybody burst out talking, laughing, crying. It was very exciting.

The official mission is Busan (pronounced as if it started with a 'p') South Korea, a city of about 4 million, on the southeast coast of Korea. She is already learning the alphabet and rudimentary vocabulary. She is so thrilled that she will come home tri-lingual. (I'm green with envy.) She enters the Missionary Training Center in Provo on the 14th of January. We have a little over a month to finish getting her ready.

Thank goodness she already has her passport!



Korea is such a looooooong way away.

Canine Hunger Strike

Our dogs have gone on a hunger strike.

Their Food Of Choice is a remix of X number of kinds of dog food, mixed altogether, bagged, and sold for cheap. HH calls it Ghetto Mix. Our dogs love it. We usually get it at Market Square, a warehouse where almost-expired or totally expired food is sold, so it is dirt cheap.

Lately, they haven't had those 30 pound bags of Ghetto Mix on the shelf, so we've had to buy a grocery-store brand. We've had that 10 pound bag of grocery-store dog food for 6 weeks, and they still haven't eaten it all. They absolutely REFUSE to eat it. They've both lost weight, and they're vulturing food from wherever they can get it, including the table and the counter and peoples' lunch bags waiting for the school day.

Yesterday I decided I had to get something they would eat. Of course I went to the store to get some. Of course Market Square didn't have any Ghetto Mix. I went to a grocery store. Of course I couldn't choose the grocery-store variety. But which to choose? Which one would our dogs Gimpy and Stupid eat? What do they base their decision on? They're both color blind, so it can't be the color of the bag OR the food. It must be smell. Of course I couldn't bring them into the grocery store to smell all the bags and tell me which they'd rather have. Not being able to base my decision on color, brand or price, I had to go by smell.

I waited til the aisle was empty. then walked along the dog food aisle and sniffed each brand of dog food, hoping somebody I knew DIDN'T turn the corner at the end of the aisle and see me with my nose plastered to a series of dog food bags, and make a character judgement.

Have you ever opened a bag of dry dog food? The smell that wafts up is delicious! Meaty, warm, just asking to be snarfed. Even a can of dog food smells pretty good, even though it looks like it's already been processed by a dog . . .

I don't have the most distinguishing of noses, but . . . they all smelled the same to me. Chicken, beef, pork, lamb, vegetable. . . all the same. Now what to do? I couldn't go on color, brand, price OR smell. So I just guessed, pulled two smallish bags (one on the higher priced end, one from the lower priced end; one red and one green-ish) and went home frustrated, hoping at least one of these two would be acceptable and end the hunger strike.

At home, I put four bowls down, 2 for each dog, one kind of dog food for each dog, and waited to see which they would go for. Both Gimpy and Stupid smelled both offerings, and then snarfed the cheapest one!

Yeah, dogs!!

Good Practicing

Someday these 19-hour days are going to kill me. I'm going to do something really stupid and never be able to show my face in public again. I'll have to go around with my head in a paper bag. Not only that, but my whole family will have to wear paper bags on their heads. I wonder if there are still enough paper bags in the world for each member of my family to have one.

Last night at group lesson I was almost comotose until we struck in to play something. Since Pete wasn't there, Jason asked which of us was good at tapping their foot (to keep time). I raised my hand, because I know both Lee and Sande rush, and John is still too new to all this. Whaddya know, Sande volunteered that I was the best at the same instant that I raised my hand! So I got to be Pipe-Sargent-For-The-Day. We did the Mill set and Amazing Grace with harmony.

And, might I add, we did very well. John was having trouble with the last part of Brogues, but it's a tough part and he's relatively new and is forgiven. We have decided to play Brogues for our recital piece (hopefully I will not be there; hopefull, I will be in Switzerland).

All my strike-ins and cut-offs were beautiful. I knew you'd want to know.

Mission Call

A large white envelope arrived at our house yesterday, from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, addressed to Daughter #1. As of this writing, she is going to sit on it and open it in Relief Society on Sunday. To annoy her father. Daughter #2 thinks this is silly and an attention-seeking behavior, that the opening of a mission call should be a family affair, and that she should open it on Friday evening. It's #1's decision.

The RS Presidency has given Daughter #1 full permission to open it on Sunday. They think it will be a bonding experience, and that all those who are present will be more apt to write to her during her mission.

Last Band Practice 2008

Nine pipers showed up last night. Nine! We only needed six to compete at Jackson Hole and could only scrounge five. Last night, prime holiday shopping and baking time, we got nine!

It was a very good practice, nonetheless. All nine pipers sounded gorgeous! Tuning went swiftly. We breezed through several familiar sets sounding like the LA Scots instead of JT Dunnie, then started on a 6/8 and a jig and Sean's tune, all of which needed the work we put into them. They still need more.

Sean then gave us some jig exercises that he had specifically designed to help us on this particular jig, Glasgow City Police Pipers. We worked on them for awhile on PCs. I was sitting next to Lee, and he was rushing through every tune and exercise, as is his wont. I wanted to whack him over the knee to slow him down, but figured that would be "inappropriate". Besides, he looked rather tired. I didn't think he would appreciate the gesture.

The Executive Committee is meeting Sunday night to decide if we get to be Grade III or not, and the party is on the 10th, 7pm, in the Little Theatre at Highland High. Pizza will be provided; we have to bring sides.

I wonder what I should bring?