Steps to the Altar

Six years ago we toured St. Petersburg, Russia. It was a hot summer day and the city seemed full of brides. Our tour guide said to see a bride on her wedding day was good luck; something you could wish on like a penny or a star. She also said the brides’ families had paid small fortunes to make their big day spectacular, though most would be divorced within the year. In the US the divorce rate is nearly twice what it was when I was born. This generation is waiting longer to marry, too. The median age for men marrying for the first time is 28.3 – for women it’s 25.8. In 1960, men generally married at 23 and women at 20. Married men and women tend to be happier and live longer lives than unmarried or divorced people. But you don’t marry to be happy. You marry to make your spouse happier.

Odd Fellow's Chain

Standing on the shore looking across the water, it’s hard to believe the Seven Seas Lagoon is man-made. It’s enormous; the largest body of water at Walt Disney World. It was designed for fishing, swimming and even surfing. There was a wave machine near the Polynesian resort, but it was shut down when the lovely beaches (also man-made) started to erode. Swimming in the Lagoon was discontinued either because of harmful bacteria in the water or because rented watercraft makes it unsafe for swimmers. There are many signs forbidding swimming, but none that warn of alligators. I’ve seen gators sunning themselves at the water’s edge, but until last week they seemed perfectly content to be viewed from a distance. The sad events near the Grand Floridian evoke these two thoughts: The world – even Disney World – is an unpredictable place. And if you have a two-year-old (or someone who used to be) you should give him a big hug.

I'm a Little Teapot

"Seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain. The fears that my parents had for me, and that I for myself, had both come to pass, and I was the biggest failure I knew. But I began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default." - JK Rowling

Blythe's Best

August 15, 2007, Peru suffered a massive earthquake. Like many other Church leaders and members, Wenceslao Conde, the president of the Balconcito Branch of the Church in Chincha, immediately set about helping others whose homes were damaged. Four days after the earthquake, Elder Marcus B. Nash of the Seventy was helping to coordinate the Church’s relief efforts there and met President Conde. As they talked about what was being done to help the victims, President Conde’s wife, Pamela, approached carrying one of her small children. Elder Nash asked Sister Conde how her children were. She replied that they were all safe and well. He asked about the Condes’ home. “It’s gone,” she said.

“And yet,” Elder Nash noted, “you are smiling as we talk.”

“Yes,” she said, “I am at peace. We have all we need. We have each other, we have our children, we are sealed in the temple, and we have the Lord. We can build again.”

Reverse Flying Geese

This was the 365 Challenge block for June 6 – sort of. The original pattern had three columns of six flying geese with the V’s pointed downward:  

It was a 6” block, which means all those flying geese should be one by two inches. If I’d made it the way it was designed, much of the fabric would have been in the seam allowance and there would have been horrible lumps at every corner. Instead, I made it slightly larger. (I don’t currently have a project calling for 9” Aunt Gracie blocks, but I can always use a 9” hot pad.) I flipped the center column of geese so the points would “click” together. After I finished the block and took the photo, I still didn’t like it. I pulled it apart and remade it into tiny Friendship Stars. Because that’s just how I roll. 

Aunt Mary's Double Irish Chain

I took a DNA test last year, expecting it to confirm what I already knew. My mother’s father came from Munich in 1924. My mother’s mother was a Mayflower descendant who claimed there were Indians in our family tree. My father’s father was the product of Mormon pioneers from England. My father’s mother could trace her paternal line back to a soldier in the Revolutionary War, and her mom was from Amsterdam. So I was sure my DNA profile would show 63% English, 25% German, and 12% Danish with little Native American for good measure. As it turns out, I’m 38% Irish and 22% English. Only 17% of my DNA comes from Western Europe (so my Bavarian grandfather or my Danish great-grandmother must have really come from someplace else). Apparently I have a great-great-grandparent from Italy or Greece, one from Poland or Slovakia, and one from Finland or Russia. Alas, I have no Indian blood.