I had a moment last Friday. My roommates and I had just come back from a triple blind date, which, surprise, was awful. I was exhausted before the date even started, it was snowy, wet and cold, and then things went from bad to worse. When we got home I sat on the couch and steamed for half an hour, I was so mad. All I wanted to do was go to bed and slay the dating monster in my dreams. Hannabeth and I needed to go to Walmart, though.
I forced myself out the door into the miserable snowy cold and discovered instead the most beautiful world. It was still snowing, and the whole world was covered in snow, starlight and stillness. I was reminded of what Elder Hales said in the last conference, speaking of wanting to come to know and gain a testimony of God: "This desire leads us to ponder on the things of heaven—to let the evidence of God all around us touch our hearts." In my life, I have been negligent in observing the frequent and touching witnesses of the love of God for His children. I nearly missed that perfect experience because I thought I would rather be grumpy. It was beautiful.
1. Over Thanksgiving, my brother and I accomplished a Thurber family first: putting up Christmas lights outside. He helped me with my fear of heights and I helped him figure out the light contraptions ("Are we supposed to screw these in?!" "No, they should just snap on." "Snap on how?!" "Just wedge them between the shingles, that'll do" "That looks ghetto" "We are ghetto"). We did figure it out eventually, survived the panic over what to do about the chimney, and were the most festive house on the block. 
2. Aren't we great? I think so. Family photos, however, are a miserable thing, at least in my family. This is how it goes, every time: First, we have to delay something fun (opening presents, going to bed, cleaning our bedrooms) to take pictures. Then we position ourselves, taking into account our different heights, genders, and outfit colors. Then we do it all over again, remembering that we have to fit Dad in, too. Dad presses the button, scampers into the picture, and we all discuss whether or not the timer is working. Either it doesn't, and we all sit there forever, or it does, and we have a lovely picture of our discussion. So we try again. Then we have problems with the sibling-whose-name-will-remain-anonymous who won't smile properly. Or even make a normal face. After a few shots, we all crowd around the camera and critique. We repeat the whole thing a few more times. It's tortuous. Finally, he-who-must-not-be-named gets a sort of shocked look on his face that looks a little bit normal. We call it good, even though I secretly bewail the fact that the most acceptable overall family picture is my least favorite of myself. However, I think our endeavor turned out rather nicely this year. We took these over Thanksgiving. We're a good-looking bunch. 
