Green Haven was known as Winterhaven in the cooler months, going back to Green in spring, then to Beach the other half of the year.
Mother would wear the golden crucifix she had worn as a child on her wedding day, for it meant more to her than her wedding band ever had.
There were Molly Mormons & Peter Priesthoods, Jack Mormons & Utah Mormons, & each deemed themselves more enlightened than the others.
The New Millennium would bring me great joy & sadness, replacing contentment & complacency. I would gain the whole world, & lose my soul, in part.
Sister Schafer was a true-blue, red state conservative, who wore elephants dangling from her ears—religion on her sleeve, politics on her ears.
A bridal shower in the Mormon Church was a G-rated bachelorette party where no man in a civil servant uniform would be showing up to remove it
There was a wedding dressmaking contest—the dresses being designed from toilet tissue. “Hope no one’s full of it today,” Kath whispered.
There was a coupon-nest-egg scavenger hunt, Donna complaining the whole time, “Why couldn’t we have done something with power tools?”
All of the handheld kitchen gadgets we played the next game with were breast-cancer pink, covered with a towel that said, “Love at Home”.
Mother’s gifts consisted of books called The Lost Art of Homemaking, Crocheting for Newbies with yarn in baby colors, & The Joy of Love.
Mother lifted the lid and nestled on the satin they had glued in there (like the inside of a coffin) was a set of real scriptures (rather than the Church-issued ones).
The most controversial gift was a lacy black negligee that unraveled when the pink bow was pulled. It seemed so…unMormonlike.
A consensus had been reached that as long as the wearing of the lingerie led to the act of procreation, the ends justified the means.