Okay so yeah, I realize Christmas is over and I didn't write anything at all about it. Wasn't exactly sure where to begin--the jammies that were huge, the moldy ham, the wonderful 3-hour phone call from my missionary. . .

I wrote before that I loved sewing and was excited to make jammies. Perhaps I should have started with a measuring tape. That's good advice, so take it to heart. I think I'm always so paranoid that I'll make something too small, and I love to have the kids wear their jammies for more than one year, and even though some aren't really growing that much any more, some are and I want to plan accordingly. However, I guess I thought my kids were huge because I made huge pajamas. But they didn't complain, just laughed.







I always always take pictures of the kids in their new pajamas on Christmas Eve, and I did, but someone deleted them off the camera. I can't figure that out. Were they that huge? I guess they were. Evidently someone didn't like they way they looked in their oversized pjs. Yeah, that must have been it.

Okay, so for the ham. We found a ham several years ago that we absolutely loved. And no, every ham is not created equal. Don't let anyone tell you that because it simply isn't true. We've tried others. Hillshire Farms brown sugar cured is the very best. It's pricey, but wonderful. And because it's pricey, we've had a harder time every year trying to find one. Corky runs all over town to find our perfect ham. It's kind of like looking for that perfect tree in the woods with the light shining down on it just calling your name. That's our ham. But alas, nobody stocked them this year. I even called the company to find out who might possibly have one--nobody in the valley. They named a couple of stores in Bountiful and I was actually eady to drive to Bountiful to buy a ham. You might think it's silly, and perhaps it is, but I would have done it. But it was a moot point--I called, they didn't carry Hillshire Farms this year.

So, we bought the beautiful ham wrapped in beautiful purple foil. Purple's good, right? I had myself totally psyched that this would be a great ham and we'd all be happy eating our perfect Christmas dinner using our Christmas plates set on the tablecloth with the poinsettias, drinking red sparkly punch out of the goblets--of course it would be wonderful!

But first, we had a great phone call from Taylor, well, that's backwards, we called him. He had called us the week before (that kind of cracks me up) to give us the phone number where to call him. He also emailed it. So he called on his birthday to give us information we already had. But hey, it was his birthday. And we kept that one short.

He talked and talked. He told us about his companion, the mission, how happy he was. He didn't want to hang up at all. They were in the church and his companion had to prepare a talk for the next day, and they had already had their meal with a family and didn't really have anything else to do. His companion's family wasn't calling for quite a while, so we talked, and talked and talked. We asked every question we'd ever thought of, and more. Then he got into the "okay ask me how to say something in Portuguese." That was truly filler, but it was making him happy.

Taylor wasn't homesick, but happy to hear our voices. At the end he bore his testimony and urged us to be faithful. He plead with us to pray and read our scriptures. The words that stuck with me are "if you don't do the things you're supposed to, then there's no reason for me to be here." He's right. What would be the point. But then, I think that's kind of why we sent him, because we are trying to do what's right.

I would say the overall feeling that I got from Taylor describing him and his mission was "contentment." I love that. He's happy where he is and with what he's doing. I'm so glad. Makes it so much easier for a mom to know that her child is happy.

So then, I took a little snooze. There was no way I was going to be able to cook dinner and keep my eyes open. After my nap, I decided to get ready for dinner. The ham in the beautiful purple foil was calling to me. It didn't exactly have a light shining from heaven, but I do like purple. I got things started and got my timing right so everything would come out "done" at the same time, and then I unwrapped the best part of our dinner. There was a little white lump on the side and I figured it was a bit of fat or something, you know, that happens. So I chunked it off with my finger and tossed that. Then I got a weird smell, and dismissed it. This was Christmas ham!

As I picked up the ham, ready to put it in the pan, there was a small piece hanging down that was in the way, so I decided--this is pre-cooked ham, I'm going to eat it. Oh my gosh. Moldy! It was so disgusting. Then I looked closer. The white lumps--not fat, mold. Green mold right by the hangy-down piece. I was ill. And that taste--I didn't know ham even got moldy. Certainly it goes bad, but not moldy.

I ran to the bathroom and brushed and brushed--my teeth, my tongue, the roof of my mouth. I'm cringing now remembering. Sick. (Ew. I just shuddered.)

So, decision time. Pre-cooked ham only takes about an hour or so to cook. So either we eat the rest of the stuff; rolls, yams, potatoes and no gravy; make pancakes or cook the frozen roast I found in the freezer. Which would take at least 3 hours. I let the kids vote and they chose frozen roast. So we had our Christmas ham-less dinner at about 7 p.m. That's very late for us, but it was okay. We talked about how grateful we were for dinner. And actually, I think it was pretty good. It wasn't ham, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to eat ham again, and never, ever will I choose one in a pretty purple foil wrapper.

So, the moral(s) to this story--measure your kids and the patterns, and check for mold. Those little chunks may not be fat. Smell, don't taste, look for unwanted green and white fur on your ham. Keep a roast in your freezer for just-in-case.