amy has gone up to idaho to do chores on her sister's farm. whenever city life gets her down -- which is about once a month -- she takes off for idaho to milk the cow and feed the chickens and talk to her sister about the kind of esoteric religious subjects 'The Encyclopedia of Mormonism' never covered. in the past i have gone with her -- i even gave amy's sister a rocker recliner for her living room so i would have someplace comfortable to sit when i was there. but this time i had to say, as lovingly and as kindly as i know how, "enough is enough."
it's not that i don't like my in-laws. it's just that i have worked to make our apartment a comfortable place for us to be. now that the damn bedbugs are finally gone, i don't ever want to go anyplace overnight again. i cherish the blessing of sleeping in my own bed every night, and preparing food in my own kitchen every day. today i'm trying a new recipe for roast pork in the slow cooker. i have covered the roast with a thick greasy flap of pig skin (which cost exactly 89 cents from the butcher.) the french call this kind of cooking 'lardon.' it's supposed to keep the roast pork very tender and juicy while adding an intense layer of flavor to it.
and i'm on a reading binge with rex stout's great detective nero wolfe.
in other words, i'm comfortable and happy -- and why should i uproot myself for several days just to smell the manured fields of wendell idaho?
so amy has gone and i'm here at home, with plenty of quiet peaceful time to do as i please. and what pleases me is to write write write.
so this is the story of the time i got punched in the nose on my mission.
it was all president brown's fault. i was no great shakes as a baptizer and my memorization and recitation of the discussions in thai was always pretty shaky at best. but president brown got it into his head that i had a special talent for straightening out 'problem elders.' so for a period of several months i was assigned to various elders who were getting close to being sent home because of their bad attitudes and disobedience.
i was assigned to work with elder johnson. back in colorado he was an apprentice to his father, who was a plumber. as i've always suspected, plumbers are robbing us blind, because even as an apprentice elder johnson made an obscene amount of money doing nothing but tightening leaky faucets. or so he said.
he slept in late. he stole food from the kitchen that was meant for our dinner. he had a serious relationship going on with a thai girl and was always trying to duck out on me so he could go see her alone. i was very mild and non-judgemental with him. then one day he put his scriptures on top of the refrigerator. now you must understand that there was a mission rule that the top of the refrigerator was to be kept clear at all times. a memo had gone out to each companionship emphasizing this little housekeeping commandment. i have no idea why the mission office wanted to emphasize this bit of nonsense so much, but they did. so we kept the top of the fridge clear. so when elder johnson put his scriptures up there one afternoon i gently reminded him of the mission rule and asked him to please take them off.
that's when he punched me right in the nose. luckily he telegraphed his move so i could step back. his punch didn't even draw blood, but it hurt like hell. i wanted to strike back at him, of course. but the spirit whispered to me to be as meek and mild as a lamb. so i just said "i wish you hadn't done that" and walked away from him.
i guess my reaction was the straw that broke the missionary's back, because a few moments later he came to me in tears to apologize and promised he'd straighten up and fly right from that moment on.
well, he did improve for the next few weeks. he got up on time. left the food alone in the kitchen. even ditched the thai chick. then it was time for transfers and i never saw him again except at the annual mission conference.
i imagine that elder johnson went back to colorado after his mission with the light of the gospel shining in his eyes, married a good woman, had half a dozen children, became a bishop or stake president, and got filthy stinking rich as a plumber.
May his tribe increase. now it's time to go answer all the emails amy has been sending me this morning . . .
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