I have three different sets of clothes in my closet.
I have my “Mom” clothes. These are my favorite. Comfortable jeans and sweaters and shirts I can wear when I’m snuggling on the couch with Lucy and Gavin, jumping with them on the trampoline, harvesting pumpkins from the garden, and painting Peaches the Pony’s toenails.
I have my “Professor Gray” clothes. These are what I wear to conferences and interviews and colloquia and places where I need to look (and feel) like an expert in German history. The black Brooks Brothers pantsuit, crisp non-iron shirts, fancy scarves and necklaces, and my favorite new addition: a blue velvet blazer I inherited from Heather.
I have my “Sister Gray” clothes. These are dresses and skirts that make me look like a Relief Society president. Nice but nondescript, the purpose of these clothes is to make me look (and feel) approachable and unintimidating, a sister in the church just like all the others. I find that dressing this way helps me to be most effective in my church callings.
My three distinct identities, and the wardrobes that go with them, rarely intersect, and when they do, I’m left wondering what in the world to wear. Last summer, I had an opportunity to have lunch with some LDS Apostles and tour the new Oquirrh Hills Temple with them. The invitation came because of my academic work on sacred spaces – but the Brooks Brothers pantsuit wasn’t appropriate to go to the temple, and I couldn’t wear one of my dowdy Relief Society lady dresses! I found an ensemble that bridged the gap – kind of – then returned it to the store because it just didn’t feel like me.
Last weekend I attended the Exponent II Retreat on Cape Cod and had a completely wonderful time. I have been trying to figure out exactly why it feels so good to hang out with those ladies every fall, and why I always come home feeling renewed and hopeful. This year, I realized it is because the retreat is the only place where all three of my identities intersect. The people that come are, for the most part, Mormon moms who have interesting careers and/or rich intellectual lives. I attended formal and informal discussions on healing rituals in the Ashante tribe in Ghana, having greater compassion and wisdom in working with others at church, and how to talk with my kids about sex. I saw a short film made by a young LDS filmmaker and talked with her about it. I walked along the beach with a management professor who just survived the tenure process at Northeastern. I talked with Laurel Thatcher Ulrich about our experiences as Mormon historians and the joys and challenges of working with diaries. I received advice about raising chickens and gave advice about potty training boys. I laughed and cried and sang and didn’t sleep much.
And the best part was: I mostly wore my sweats.
Troy and Manuela Messick were here and they helped us pick the apples. We have five apple trees but (thankfully) only two that produce a lot of apples. There were plenty for the sauce and plenty for the horses to munch on.
Slice, cook, sieve, add a bit of sugar, fill the bottles. My big stock pot holds just as many jars as a canning pot, so I processed them in that. 
Voila! Applesauce! I even made some Apple Butter just to see if I could do it.
Lucy even went out on the "taco" tube with her Dad! He got worn out faster than she did -- she convinced Cade Bedell to ride with her when he was done. I think she could have stayed out there all day, pulled behind the boat. Next summer, kneeboard? Or even waterskis?
Such a wonderful way to celebrate the last official day of summer . . . now autumn can come! 
It's hard to say what was more fun for the kids -- filling the pinata (and themselves) full of candy before the party . . .
Lucy is on her way to second grade. Gavin is setting a good example by eating toast.