Sunday Memories

The lesson in Relief Society today was on Family History. Usually these types of lessons make me cringe as I add to the mental list of 'Here's one more thing "to-do" and another way to feel like crap about yourself for not doing it'. Add two points for not even wanting to do it even if you could and time and money were not factor. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

The suggestion was offered that you begin by documenting one memory each Sunday. I can do this! Then my mom turned to me and said, "This is why you need to keep up on your blog." And I felt super righteous for doing my geneaological duty. Because for the most part, the really juicy stuff makes it to the blog. Yes, this is as juicy as it gets. I'm matronly, and boring, and lack unusual piercings. You can feel sorry for me in my boringness, but as you will see- Don't mess.

When I vent and spout and spew this random crap, someday one of my descendants is going to care. Or at least they are supposed to. It is a scriptural promise.

Sunday Memory #1

I'm sitting in Mom and Dad's family room with a full view of the kitchen. The table might be different (we wont even go there), but I can't think of their kitchen without remembering all of us sitting around it one night when Jess yelled, "Here!" Fully expecting me to gently lob a nectarine in her direction, it didn't work out that way. I wound up, hurled it full force less than a couple of feet. She moved her hands and I broke her nose. Neither one of us have been able to live it down since. Just to clarify for any of our descendents who may hear an embellished version of this story...This was not the start of my pitching career. No scholarships were offered. But I would like a little credit for contributing to the straight nose she always wanted and eventually got after she broke it couple more times. I had nothing to do with those.