I’m behind on writing.  I haven’t been home much in the last couple days except to sleep and work.

Yesterday I went to Mark’s new ward for church.  We had found out online that he’s been assigned to a ward in Ben Lomond, which is on the west side of our mountain, toward the sea.  We hadn’t been down that side of the mountain yet, so I had no idea what to expect.  I left around 9:00 in the morning and made it 10 minutes early for the 10:00 service.  The roads are every bit as windy on that side than they are on “ours”, and civilization isn’t as abundant on that side.

In fact, I must have stuck out like a sore thumb when I walked in.  I found a pew and sat down to look through the hymn book for the first hymn.  A woman came all the way up from the back of the church and said, “I don’t know you,” and she proceeded to introduce herself and ask me all about myself.  While we were talking, one of the bishopric counsel came down to meet me and ask me what I was doing there.  As the Sacrament service was about to begin, the woman said, “Why don’t you come and sit with me so you don’t have to sit by yourself?”  When we went back to where she was sitting, she introduced me to her daughter-in-law who is the president of the Relief Society, a group for LDS women.

I had told the woman I was sitting with that I wanted to speak to the Ward Clerk, because Mark asked me to give him details about how someone from there could visit Mark since he has to work all day on Sundays.  She pointed him out to me, and after the service she left me to wait for him.  I couldn’t get out of my pew because there were a couple women standing at the end of it chatting, but I had my eye on the Ward Clerk and planned to catch him if he walked by.  Instead, the Bishop himself came and introduced himself to me.  He said that he’d heard (probably from his counselor who had spoken to me earlier) that I’d just moved into the area and he wanted to know where.  When I told him we live on Skyline Blvd, which is right on the boundary line for their ward, he asked me to come to his office and point on a map where we live.  I did so, and then I told him we live at the Los Altos Rod and Gun Club.

I might as well have said I was the First Lady and was married to the President!  His eyes lit up and he said that he and a number of others in this ward are members of the NRA and have come up here to shoot.  His wife walked in briefly and he told her where we live.  He got the particulars from me that Mark had sent me to tell the ward clerk, and he said we will be very popular people to come and visit.  My other task was to pick up tithing envelopes for Mark, and then I intended to slip out like Mark and I always did at his church after Sacrament meeting.  But after the Bishop was done talking with me, he took me out and started introducing me to everyone he could grab, including the missionaries, and telling them all where we live.  I was like a celebrity!

I started picking up the tithing envelopes for Mark when the president of the Relief Society took me by the arm and led me to a class room.  So much for making my getaway!  There were six of us sitting around a table, so there was no way to avoid being noticed.  I had only had Cheerios and juice for breakfast, and I was getting hungry, so I fished around in my purse and found an old squished Snickers bar and ate it.  I thought I’d make my getaway after the class.  It was an interesting class taught by a young man who barely looked like he was out of high school, but had, in fact, served a 2 year mission and then gone to college at BYU.  The class was on mercy and the need to forgive 100% of the time in order to be forgiven.

One of the young women in the class sort of took me under her arm and led me to the Relief Society room where there was to be another class.  Curses!  Foiled again!  I was seated next to a woman who didn’t say much, but the Relief Society president asked me to introduce myself and tell a little about myself, and the woman next to me said, “Good!  We need more members!”  This is a much smaller ward than the one in Oregon City and appears to have sole ownership of the building, so it would appear they do need more members.  When I looked to the front of the room, I saw a basket with chocolates in it.  I thought to myself, “I hope they hand those out soon!”  No such luck.  The woman leading the class was talking about faith, and at the end of her lesson, she finally handed the chocolates out.  They had the word “Faith” taped on them, and she said she was giving her faith away.  Cute!  But I was starved!

After Relief Society, I finally made my escape and drove to Boulder Creek where I found a small diner and had quiche and fruit flavored carbonated water.  Mom, the quiche wasn’t as good as at Shirley’s!  But to a starving person, anything that fills the belly is good.

After I ate, I stopped to look at a library that is supposed to be my closest county library.  The Saratoga Library, which is much closer to us, charges $80 for a one year membership for anyone who doesn’t live in Saratoga.  It is apparently a city library.  So a woman I’ve been writing to here said I might be able to get a card at a county library.  The closest one is in Fenton, which must be about 40 minutes away from us.  And it’s closed on Sundays and Mondays, so I wasn’t able to go in and ask about a card.  Everything was so much more convenient in Oregon!  I miss being able to check books out.