Earlier this week we had a "how to bottle peaches" Enrichment activity in our ward, which was awesome. We all learned how to do part of the process, we all worked together, and we all got peaches out of the deal.
The kitchen in our building was not really in "warming and serving" mode, but the activity was fantastic and I'm glad I went.
Here's the miracle: Every single bottle sealed. Yes. All of them. There were like 10 million or something and not one didn't do what it should have. That is a miracle.
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Josh and I went grocery shopping last night. It was the case lot sale and we thought we should stock up on some food-storagey stuff. We bought like 10 million cans of stuff and came home and every single can fit in our closet.
The fact that we could buy enough to be concerned about having a place to put it is a miracle. The fact that it all fit in our closets is a miracle. The fact that we have food storage is a miracle.
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Usually Josh rolls over with me all night long. Every time I roll, he rolls and we take turns being the "outside spoon". Now that "rolling" (let's be honest, that maneuver cannot be called "rolling" by any stretch of the imagination but we're calling that anyway because "rolling" is shorter than "hefting my enormous self up and over and flopping me back down again in a way that you've only seen a beached whale move") is such a fiasco he (and I) come all the way out of our deep sleep to roll.
Except not last night. I woke up, but Josh didn't. That means I didn't feel so guilty about waking him up all night with my rolling. And that is a miracle.
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At work on Friday Aundrea got Mike to move all of his Work Orders to History. You don't get it, and that's OK. But it is a miracle.
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