I'm staying on my mission for another transfer!!! 

Maybe that will give me enough time to convince President Matsumori to let me stay a full two years.  What do ya think? 

So, to follow up from last week: Cookie Dough.  I'm doing a much better job at learning to have fun while still working hard, so Sister Holt and I decided to buy a container of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream (big surprise, right) and eat the whole thing except for the cookie dough.  That, we saved in a bowl until the ice cream was gone.  Our plan was to make cookies with it, but when we were done with the ice cream, we realized there was only enough cookie dough for one cookie.  ONE!  So we baked it anyway and it was gross.  I learned my lesson.  That stuff is definitely supposed to be eaten with the ice cream.  Not as a cookie.  We did eat the whole thing though, just to say we did.  But I'll probably never do that again.

Next story.  Mud.  You can probably guess where this one's going.  About a week or two ago, we were trying to find the address of a referral.  We walked all over this apartment complex and asked everyone we saw where the address was (and if they wanted the gospel).  Ironically, every person we talked to was a different race than the time before, and each person told us to go in the opposite direction than what we were told the time before.  It was hilarious.  So, we were walking along the sidewalk when we noticed this river flooding our path a couple of steps ahead.  Instead of being smart and stepping down off of the pavement like Sister Holt, I decided to take the higher ground and walk on the grass...right where the giant mud puddle was.  It was up to my ankles.  And I was wearing flats.  Brilliant.  At least it was a good conversation starter.  :]

City.  Last week we went to the city.  We wanted to go to the Holocaust Museum, and knew we had to get tickets, so we got there around 8, 8:30 and got in line.  We ended up sitting by Zach, who had just gotten married a couple of months before, and who was in line to get tickets for both himself and his wife (who was at a conference).  He actually started talking to us, which never happens, and that began our hour long conversation about the gospel.  It's crazy how prepared he was.  He'd grown up with some Mormon friends, some of which had gone to BYU, and he and his wife were in the process of moving and looking for a church.  Then he was staying at the Marriott and noticed the Book of Mormon in their room because Brother/Mr. Marriott is so smart and makes sure every room has a copy.  It was great.  He already acted Mormon and didn't really belong to a church, but his beliefs were right in line with ours.  We gave him a mormon.org card with the page number for a chapter, and told him that he was welcome to take that copy of the Book of Mormon from his hotel.  I could tell he was thinking when we left, and hopefully I'll get to hear about his baptism sometime soon.

Then, we went to a cafe for lunch and a member was there eating so he bought it for us.  Then later that night we didn't have time to make dinner, so we went out again and another member wanted to buy that for us.  We're so spoiled.  (Maybe blessed is a better word...) I love being a missionary.

Well, I just realized that this is not the most spiritual letter, but I still love finding the joy in simple things and hope that it's uplifting anyway.

I love you all.  Stay true to what's eternal.

Love, Sister Welch

Editors Note:  This is the 200th post of Katherine's since the start of the blog.

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