Getting Started

Wow...I hope I am not too old to blog, since every blog I read last night and this morning was written by young, wonderful mothers!
I just hope to 1) keep in contact with my sisters, 2) my friends, 3) keep a record of my goings on.

Soooooo, why crackerjack and the prizes? My dearly beloved sisstas will know. Daddy dear called me Crackerjack growing up, for reasons unknown to me. Sometimes it was just Cracker (not to be confused with the slang term. I know it is something derogitory, but I don't know what it really means, so maybe someone can kindly clear that up for me.)

Moving on. So Crackerjack, I am. Then I come with prizes. Some days they feel really cool like the lick on tattoos that you could cooly display and not ever want to wash off. Other days they feel like the dud joke "prize" on a cheap piece of paper and the joke is on me. Or is me. Okay, I know my prizes are not duds, and they are valuable in Heavenly Father's eyes, and even mine, but you know some days...I feel like a total looser with a dud prize. Not today, though. Josh got an "A+" in English and has really been working hard at school. I wish I could paste his report card to my forehead (or his even) and wear it around for everyone to see.

One more comment before I wake up the prizes for church. Well, my grand prize just came in, we got to talking and I forgot what I was going to say.
I hope you all have a blessed sabbath. Don't you hate coming home from church feeling like a looser, overwhelmed, failure of a saint? May you feel fellowshiped and loved and uplifed...come what may.