Spring Break

We spend every Spring Break in St. George, Utah where spring has already sprung and we can enjoy hiking in red canyons and I can reminisce out loud about the two years I spent there in college. My sentences typically begin with, "When I was cute and skinny, I used to..." The memory of the memory of how cute and skinny I was now puts me in the category of Miss America. I guess that's what happens when time goes by. Although I did come across a picture of myself at Lake Powell as I was getting into the lake to waterski. Perfect hair, make up already on and the hips the size of my current left thigh. I don't remember them spreading but I now have hope for having grandchildren when I look at my daughters' non-childbearing hips.

This year I procrastinated getting a condo and didn't get one. One sister met another sister in San Diego for Spring Break. Another sister is staying in a motel in St. George while my brother and his family are in India. My family, I might self-righteously boast, spent Easter Sunday at church. Although my pious mask did slip a bit.

Scott was asked to speak in Sacrament Meeting on the Resurrection. He prepared and over-prepared. He told me that he wonders if he should write his talk out on paper or if he should use bullet points. I don't know which one he used but he gave a marvelous talk except for when he used the phrase "Christian sects" which took every bit of my self control to not look around the congregation to see if they heard "Christian sex," too and keep a straight face. And I did. But I did tell him what he said as soon as the meeting ended because I was giggling little a 10 year old boy.

I took my 7 year old to Primary then stopped to talk to one of the teachers in the back of the room. While I was talking to her, the meeting started and I heard which children would be giving the prayer, talk and scripture. One of the names read was my son's. Surprise! I looked up to the front of the room to see my terrified little boy looking at me with pleading eyes. Help. Me. I did because that's what moms do. We look around the room until we see the scripture posted on the far wall and wish to high heaven we'd worn our glasses then squint and whisper the words into his ear so he can repeat. 

I joined my husband for Sunday School then and mulled over the chicken problem. Because I apparently suffer from adult onset ADHD, of course. So much so, that at the end of Sunday School, I watched my husband leave the room then made a beeline for the exit, mumbling to one neighbor about getting the rolls started. The truth is that I planned on starting the rolls after I did what really needed to be done.

I went dumpster diving. In my pretty, new lavender skirt I got just for Easter Sunday. I looked pretty, by the way.

There are some great dumpsters near the church where houses are under construction and I could get some great pieces of wood for fixing up the chicken coop, making a gate for the chicken run, setting the chicken coop up so it won't rot and for other such thoughts to be satisfied. Surprisingly, the pretty lavender skirt was not the issue while climbing the truck size dumpsters and swinging my legs over to stand in the rubble. It was the high heeled sandals. But they were so cute with the skirt. 

Was the ox in the mire? I'd have to go with no. I'm also going with the law of averages. 5 out of 6 Taylors were at church celebrating the Resurrection for the third hour of services. Maybe I can hang onto their coat tails? I didn't think so. 

But the rolls were rising by the time everybody else came home. Scott was more relaxed since his Easter talk was over. My 7 year old had already forgotten about having to give the scripture and was building with Legos. And Nancy is still learning how to repent.

Great Easter in the Christian Sects.