The Quiver

Our two year old acts much older than his years. When Mom cleans the bathrooms, he’s there helping; when it’s time to cook dinner, he pulls over his stool to help stir. Recently the latest editions of The Ensign and The Friend came in the mail. (These are magazines published by the LDS Church. They have three, each age targeted: The Friend is for children, The New Era is for teens, and The Ensign is for … well, everyone actually, but specifically for adults. They also publish the Liahona internationally in many languages.)

Bookworm had, of course, immediately laid claim to The Friend as soon as she found it. I had been reading the previous copy of The Ensign to get the monthly message to share with my Home Teaching families.

Not to be left out, Mr. Grownup found himself a copy (The Ensign in this case), sat himself down in the love seat, and opened it up for a read. The fact that he can’t read bothered him about as much as the fact that he had the magazine upside down: not one whit.

I was reminded recently that there was an entry that wanted writing. Since it’s Thanksgiving weekend and the kids are in bed I might as well get it out of the way, eh? (Now if I were really on the ball, I would have a nice new laptop, with functional WiFi so I could sit in the living room with everyone else while I write this, but I’m an anti-MS curmudgeon, and it can be difficult to convince Linux and WiFi to behave themselves on old hardware.)

Anyway…

I read a post over at my mother’s site about men up on roofs. (Shouldn’t that be “rooves?” Oh wait, this is English; it’s not supposed to make sense.) No good deed goes unpunished, so I left a comment on her entry, which stirred up memories of a weekend not too far past.

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