Appearance

  Larry and I went to a fast-food place last week, and while he waited in line, I sat at a table and people-watched.  
  There was a woman about my age in line.  She had gorgeous white hair, and the most beautiful porcelain skin I have ever seen.  Everything she had on looked right, down to the perfect number and placement of accessories.  I immediately thought, "I want to look like her."
  Just ahead of her was another woman about the same age.  She had stringy gray hair and a blotchy complexion and her clothes looked like they had just come from Deseret Industries, (or maybe they had been rejected by Deseret Industries.)  The women with her were asking about her Relief Society service, and I realized  "I want to be like her."
  The first woman probably does great service as well, and we're encouraged to look as nice as possible without dwelling on it too much, but this experience reminded me of the scripture which says God looks not on the outward appearance but on the heart.  I won't ever have perfect skin and perfect hair; the intricacies of a perfect outfit will probably stay forever out of reach, but I can work on perfecting my heart.  
   And I can stop judging people by their appearance.

Almost Spring

   I know it's not really spring, but it feels like spring, and I love it!  
Here's the view from our back yard:

Here's a view  from the front yard:

    I love having Timp covered with snow and daffodils coming up at the same time.  For that matter, I love having a foot of snow dumped on us one day and watching it all disappear before my eyes.  I love having it smell like spring, even on the stormy days.  I love not wearing a coat  when it's all of 45 degrees out.  I love the anticipation of wondering which, if any, of the things we planted last year will actually survive. (Going by our record, it won't be many.)  I love knowing that the worst weather is over for another year, and that the winter snow provides the water for everything that lives.

  I love spring because it reminds me of my blessings.  No matter how many times I get dumped on, the snow eventually melts and things get better.    There are always unexpected bits of color even when things look drab.  If I look for them, there are new, fresh sights, smells and sounds.  At least some of my faculties that seem dormant are going to wake up.  And even the worst storms provide the moisture of increased wisdom, empathy and gratitude.