A Day with the Cutie-Patooties

We had Sarah and Allison for a few hours a couple of weeks ago, and got these cute pictures.
Sarah picked a daffodil on her way out the door, and said, "Grandma, take a picture of me." So I did. We kept walking down the road to the park and she says, "Take a picture of me by this pretty flower."
They were both so darn sweet. When I was playing with Allison in the tubes I said, "Allison, smile." and that pucker face is what I got. Priceless.
Sarah was swinging on the big kid swings and doing quite well. Grandpa asked her if she wanted a push, and she nodded yes. Gad-zooks. He gave her a swing that made her head snap. Up she went, higher and higher. I ran that direction, fearing the worst, and unfortunately I called it. The inertia from the upward swing was more than her little fingers could overcome. To the very top of the arc she went, and only the swing came back down. Sarah continued to fly... and then another physical law kicked in, this one's called gravity. Poor baby did a face-plant as she biffed the dirt. Thank goodness for 'soft and shock-absorbing playground chips'. She was flabbergasted, and just plain insulted. Who could blame her? Grandpa has only loved and protected her all her life, playing Legos with her, eating her pretend food, and drumming with Lincoln Logs on the trunk "drum set". This was NOT supposed to happen! She let me rock her on the swing while she got her wind back, and he got a full-on, furrowed brow, hairy-eyeball dirty look. It only took about three minutes and he was forgiven, but the next time he asked her if she wanted a push she said, "no thank-you".

It'll Be Fun.

Hey! Forget the fact that it has rained for 8 months straight! Forget that it's been gray for 9 months, forget that we have two weeks of summer, and we're probably out of town, forget that we don't know the first thing about sailing, forget ALL that, and let's buy A SAILBOAT!!!
"It'll be fun!" Those are the immortal words Danny has said to me at every important juncture of our marriage. When he proposed (if you want to call it that, he actually said, "When are you coming home?) he said, "It'll be fun!" (He was right). When he said, "Let's be a ma and pa on the trek". (He wasn't so right on that one, but that's another story, for sure.) When he said, "Let's move to Lacey". (Another good call.) and on and on. Well, it's only been 24 hours, and it hasn't stopped raining, nor has the tide been up long enough to bring the boat into the marina, but he is still grinning ear to ear, so I guess we're having fun. Here she is, presently the Mistique, but going to become,... something better.

Chapter 3

I'm getting a little bored with my saga, so I am going to skip the stories, anecdotes, and just tell you that it was a long road, with many a winding turn, that leads us to who, knows where, who knows where...wait, that's been done.
We had a funeral right off the bat, and I had no idea how to pull that off. I tried to think, but it happened so fast--and at the last minute I realized that I had nothing for centerpieces for the table. Plenty of good food, but, how embarrassing. Then a family member arrived and said, "I hope you don't mind, but we'd like to put lilacs in antique blue canning jars on the tables, they were mom's favorite." (MIND?!) Oh, how lovely, that would be just beautiful, sure, you go ahead. And it really, really was. If I die in lilac season, I'd like the same thing at my party. (Yes, a big, fun, laughter filled party, with volleyball after the short life-celebration part.)
We put on dinners, events, taught loads of lessons, and practical life skills, and over saw a few relationship traumas, and I made out food orders, helped people move in, and clean, and move out, and clean, and drove people around, and went to tons of meetings, and still we laughed, and cried, but never, never fought. I loved to just watch as we worked ideas around, and finally teased the final product from the jumble of discussion that proceeded the final decisions. We'd all sigh and feel like we had arrived at just the right place.
I will always remember how Terry did everything so beautifully. I would have copied recipes onto notebook paper and stapled them in the corner. She made a cookbook that was magnificent. Everything was artistic and worthy of framing. I made a lesson around the virtues of the poppyseed, and she made a seed packet to match my lesson idea, with a beautiful red poppy on the cover.
O kay, just one story, but then I'm done. We started a tradition of a gourmet burger night over at Sharon's house each summer, and Wally was our grill master. We talked about S'mores, and if we could build a fire and sit around and make them. We got into how many sticks we'd need, how many people could crowd around a fire, if it was safe or feasible...and Sharon (who thinks camping means a 40 foot RV) said, in all seriousness, (she was trusting us to be kind and understanding of her confusion, remember that it takes a lot to admit to someone that you don't know.) her brows knit together, she earnestly says, "I've always wondered, how do you get the graham cracker to stay on the stick?" There was a dead silence as we let the question sink in, and a few more beats of shock, then we simultaneously busted up. Tears were streaming down our faces, and all the while Sharon's saying, "What!?" What's funny!? You guys!?" I don't remember who was first able to compose themselves enough to answer her. Ah, Sharon, gotta love her. She is without guile, that one.
I knew at the 3 year mark that we had been in a long time, and at 3 and a half I felt we were on borrowed time. The Lord prepared my heart, and though it took some time, I was ready when the bishop and I sat down to discuss Relief Society. I had done the job that was before me, Relief Society was on solid footing, with all programs in place. Teachers had come and gone, specialists had come and gone, Super Saturdays had come and gone, workshops, classes, line-dancing, all manner of good things had happened. It was time to step back, and give the reins to strong hands, fresh eyes, and a different way of seeing.
The void was instantaneous. It was a large, gaping hole. There was silence where the phone ringing used to be. There were hours that were no longer filled with questions. There was a blank spot every Thursday afternoon on my calendar. I really felt invisible at church. I cherish those notes and cards that came in the mail that week. Several people took the time to express appreciation. Every time I read one I cried all over again. If you have sent a child off to college, it's kind of like that. You just don't know what to do with your hands for a minute. I loved that calling, but it was time to let it go. I enjoyed the ride, but I was all right getting off, too. There are other things to see and do at this great big adventure-land called life!

Chapter 2

For the next year Penny Rasmussen, my first counselor, and Sharon Blake, our secretary, and I, worked hard to get our little Relief Society off the ground. We met every week, and while we always promised ourselves we'd stick to business and be focused, we really never did. It didn't take us very long to get interested in the goings on of each other's lives, and it seemed we each had a story to tell before we even tried to take care of business. Perhaps it was the enormity of it all that we were reluctant to face, or maybe it was just that it was so fun to have girl friends to share life with. Whatever it was, I enjoyed it immensely.
We decided our first job was Sundays, and getting teachers to instruct each week. We took great care when putting those important pieces in place. Calling teachers was huge, as so much of the tone of Relief Society is set in those Sunday meetings, and the amount of love and honesty they show encourages what is reflected back from the sisters in the room. When that was done we were ready to move on. I loved our teachers!
The next of our first big tasks was to try to set up visiting teaching routes. Wow. It was Penny's idea to get a huge board and put every sisters name on it twice; once in white, "to be visited", and once in yellow, "to go visit". We had grand ideas of putting people together by neighborhoods, to be efficient, but wait---- there's working/not working to deal with. Oh, yeah, car/no car, drive/no drive, kids/no kids, young/old, old ward/new ward, too. As we found out, there's also motivated and less so, personality conflicts, health, time restrictions, and a myriad of other factors to take into account. In our ward, we also have a high percentage of military, so there is a lot of coming/going to work on. Just as we thought we might have it, we'd see that people were visiting each other, somebody would move in or out, or that we made another of a dozen mistakes. We were prayerful, and we spent many hours in front of that board! One of the things I loved about our sisters in 4th ward is their willingness to accept whatever conglomeration of routes we handed them. I had a few, but very few, who thought we must have been out of our minds when we came up with those ideas! I asked them to pray about their routes, because we had, and come and see me if they still felt the need. I asked them to think of themselves as flowers, all different, but all beautiful, and creating a lovely bouquet of different kinds and colors. We saw unlikely pairings bring about new friendships, and watched a few miracles take place as we saw the hand of the Lord working through our inept, but willing hands.
The three of us did a good job, but knew we needed our other counselor to be whole. Though I pondered and prayed, I never could figure out who it was supposed to be, so we limped along on 3 wheels for the first year. Then finally! The lord took me to her door. Sharon and I went to visit a new sister by the name of Terry Shupe, and what a fun visit it was! We left that house after laughing and getting to know each other, and as we got in our car I turned to Sharon and said rhetorically, "We found her, didn't we."

Chapter 1

I finally feel like talking about being released as Relief Society President. But first I want to record how I came to become Relief Society President of Lacey 4th ward. This is my journaling method right now, so I apologize for the boring aspects of my story, but I don't want to forget. And besides, 'they' keep saying how my great-grandkids will get a kick out of hearing about their great-granny in the olden days.
When the wards that met in the Nisqually chapel outgrew themselves, the boundaries were changed, all the wards shifted, and a new ward was created. There was a special meeting held at the Stake Center where the speculation and rumors would finally be dispelled and the boundaries formally announced. We had in our minds the logical way this would take place, and were pretty satisfied that we would be 'safe' with all our friends sticking together.
After a song and an inspirational message, the screen finally came down and a large map with highlighter boundaries was shown. There was a little nervous chatter and surprised sounds as the whole thing looked quite different than we guessed. Beachcrest and Jubilee were chopped away from each other, and the boundaries on the other side of Martin Way were different too. After the shock of that settled down, the Stake President started announcing temporary callings to help make the transition while the real callings could be organized and set apart. I had a piece of paper and a pencil handy and was furiously taking notes. I remember writing and saying, "Oh, good call. Oh, that's a good choice. Oh, of course." On down the list he went, until President Coppin said, "Vicki Seversike as Relief Society President of Lacey 4th ward." I quit writing and looked at Danny and said, "What? What did he say? Did he say me? Can he do that?" He put his hand on my knee and said, "You'll be fine." I didn't hear much after that.
As the meeting ended and we started to make our way out of the chapel, people were congratulating me, and saying they were happy for me. "No, no, no," I said, "this is just temporary until they find the real one." I was pretty sure this was true, because you don't call a real RS President over the pulpit, right?
Within a week or so, the youth had created a system wherein numbers were assigned to create a short hand to explain where you were from. A "34" was a previous 3rd ward, now 4th ward member. A "46" was an old 4th warder who was now a new 6th ward member, and so on. A little clinical, but efficient.
As I pondered on this calling a hundred things went through my head. What would I do with this brand new group of people who were fragments of different wards? How would we come to know and love each other? What would the personality of this new ward be? Would there be a way to quit being 'them' and 'they' and become 'us'? I decided very quickly that I would use whatever time I had to try to sew these very different fabrics into a new and colorful quilt. I thought that since I only had a little time before they found the real president I had nothing to lose. I also decided that we were going to have some fun while it lasted.
The first Sunday we met there were 8 ladies, and that included the presidency. The ward was so small that almost everyone was needed in Primary. The only sisters we had were the ones with Sunday School callings, who could join us 3rd hour. We played getting to know you games, and all the ice breakers I knew, especially the ones that required you get up and move around. There would be no, "we're on this side and you stay over there" seating arrangements. We laughed. We shared fears, and hopes and dreams. When you got honest, it turned out everyone was nervous, but really had a deep desire to become one. It reminded me a lot of my blended family. Where so many hearts desire to create something good you can hardly fail. And, like my children, who showed Christlike love for their new family and created something amazing, the Relief Society sisters did the same thing. They threw open their hearts and took everyone in. It was beautiful to behold.
There were no manuals, no notebooks, no notes, no nothing. Everything went with the other president to her newly assigned ward. We were feeling our way in the dark. We created everything from scratch. After a while President Coppin said that he'd like to make this calling permanent, and by then I was in love, and though scared to death, was delighted to accept.

Let's Try It....

For January's family dinner the theme was Emergency Preparedness. We all agreed that whatever we made would use emergency preparedness tools, or have ingredients from our storage in it. The guys used their dutch ovens to make dinner, which was amazing, and the women successfully used storage items to make wonderful contributions. For example, Jenna used her wheat grinder to make wonderful bread. For me, one of the lessons learned was that food can take on a metallic taste if stored in #10 cans for 15 years. I'm sure in a true emergency that would be no big deal, but I need to rotate better. I threw out some stuff I should have used sooner. I also made a great cake, but used frosting in a plastic container that tasted like plastic. I scraped it off and made homemade from powdered sugar I had in storage. But that was the point!! We used it, we learned, and we had a great time. I got our candles and lanterns, and bit by bit over the course of dinner I turned off all the lights, until we were eating by candlelight. It was great fun, and the kids thought it was very adventurous. Chris decided we weren't heating water on the campstoves for clean up, though, not with dutch ovens and dinner for 20 people to clean up. (I didn't argue!) In an emergency, like camping, it seems like you just work on food for a majority of your day, either preparing it or cleaning it up. Everyone took home a little green lantern as a reminder that we want to stay focused on our goal to be prepared.