[1]It
truly feels like Christmas now. We finally got snow in Ritzville. It snowed a
little on Friday but most of it melted. It was a little deeper out in Odessa,
another small town in the Ritzville
branch. We woke up Saturday to fresh snow and it snowed most of the day. The
big problem is not with the snow, however; it's with the wind. Some of the
highs this week are in the single digits, and with the wind it feels like -20.
Noses and cheeks instantly freeze when we get out of the car when the wind is
blowing. I sent a letter to our mission president asking what he expects of us
in such dangerously cold weather. Today I spent some money and bought thermals
(thermal garments aren't terribly warm or comfortable, and with regular ones I
don't have to wash them every time I use them) and boots. The rubber overshoes
I got for my mission keep the snow off of my shoes but not out of them.[2] I hope the boots will fit
properly; I didn't want to tighten them too much in the store because it would
take too long. They are size 12 because the 11s weren't wide enough (curse my
wide feet!).[3]
It should work out, I hope.
Most of the snow is dusty because it blows off the dirt and
then the dirt gets blown around. Most of the snow is not original snow; it's
mostly stuff that's been blown from elsewhere. It's been amazing to watch it
blow. It looks like little snakes slithering on the road, or little spinning
gusts heading down the sidewalk. I have been wearing every warm article of
clothing I own. That works out for most of my body except my face. Even if I
were to wrap my scarf so that I looked Muslim I'd still be cold.
I should be shipping off a package today or tomorrow, I
hope. It has a Halloween dodgeball as the biggest item.[4] I also decided to throw in
all the letters I've received on my mission. If you could find a place for them
(even if you keep them in the box) I would appreciate it. Most of them are from
you. I also threw in a memory card with the explanations (I hope you can find
them with all the letters, and FYI, my picture frame does not take the stick). I
will send home gifts. The family present is nothing big so you can eat it
immediately. You'll be able to tell what I got for Allie and the combined one
for Preston and Franklin. You'll probably think it's stupid but they were right
where we were and I didn't want to go to the toys because I can never decide
what to get. You can decide if they're worth wrapping for them or not.
I did get some ideas for Christmas if it's not too late, but
they're not too important so don't worry if it is. It might be fun to have the
scriptures on CD (for long car drives when we don't get to study), or
rechargeable batteries since my camera eats them pretty quickly. But whatever
you get will be fine. If possible, it would be fun to have wrapped gifts. We
already have one to open on Christmas, but I don't think living in an apartment
will allow for a mystery Santa like last year.[5] If you want our home
address to send them here it is:
104 E 2nd Ave # 9
Ritzville, WA 99169[6]
The members we stay with in Davenport were making sloppy
joes and I mentioned the sandwiches you used to make with the ground beef and
cheese and peppers, etc. Later she specifically asked me to ask you for the
recipe. While you're at it, it may be fun to have recipes for Christmas sugar
cookies or a buche de Noël. I probably won't make them for Christmas but I'd
like to know I could.
We got a call that I got a package but it was sent UPS so
they couldn't forward it. Hopefully the sisters in Cheney will be going to the
office (since one of them is going back to Temple Square) sometime so they can
pick it up. I don't know from whom it came, because I know you know to send
USPS.[7]
Two years ago, among my glowing ornament decorations,
twenty-nine Christmas shows, and three-year-old niece, I found myself sadly
saying things like, "This is my last Christmas." Now, with my
homemade wreath, common MoTab, and Micah 5:2 written festively on the
whiteboard, I find myself with the same sentiment.
"O Holy Night" for
some reason makes me particularly depressed. I have no more Christmases on my
mission.
 |
| I wrote this for personal study on the day after Thanksgiving. |
Some of the reason for this is a dream--a nightmare,
perhaps--I had on Tuesday night. In it I went home. I got home and I was like,
"Now what do I do?" I was trying to make up excuses not to call
President Brower to release me, like, "It's Monday night so we can't
interrupt his FHE." (That will actually be a valid concern when I get
back.)[8] I went on a walk and I
cried. But then I realized it was 2008 and I still had another year, and that
made everything better.
But the dream made me realize the truth. I'd always had
little fantasy scenes of everything being perfect when I got home. Now I
realize that it won't be that way. I'm going to be sad and have no idea what to
do.[9] I don't know how soon
it'll be before I watch TV or listen to music because it's been forbidden for
so long. The year 2008 is almost over, and I go home in 2009. It's so sad.
As for killing Elder L., Elder B. was my only
non-three-month companion (he was six weeks). But companions are staying
together longer. The mission is getting a large number of missionaries so there
will be an increase from around 77 companionships to 90. We are speculating
that they might split our area and one of us would stay in each. We agree that
if that happened I'd probably stay in Ritzville and Elder Love would stay in
Davenport. But this is complete speculation and probably won't happen.
I hope to send my Christmas cards off today.
Love,
Elder Melville
[1]
The title for my email comes from a song from The Year without a Santa Claus.
[2]
The Mr. Mac salesman sold me some rubber overshoes that weren’t terribly useful.
[3]
My memory of getting size 12 was because we pressed the “customer assistance in
shoes” button at Walmart, but they took too long to respond, so we left.
[4]
I never saw that dodgeball again.
[5]
Since I lived with members my first Christmas, somehow word got out that I didn’t
have any presents to open on Christmas, so someone got some for me.
[6]
If some nefarious person wants to use this address to go heckle missionaries,
they don’t live there anymore, so joke’s
on you!
[7]
“From whom it came” is an awkward construction from my prescriptivist days. The
package was from my Aunt Terri.
[8]
The night I got back was a Monday, but it was the stake president’s counselor
(and the bishop who sent me out) who released me.
[9]
Yeah, that basically happened in real life.
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