I also hope to write about some other wonderful bits from the past few days:
- The dreaded cranberry juice blitz
- The grand entrance of Alice Chlotelle
- Winning a pedicure
- Loving Relief Society
- A shopping spree with Bec o' my heart
- Intro to Jillian Michaels
- Breaking my 30-day detox fast with one of Leland's eggs (not one that he laid himself, whew)
- The El Salvadorean pupusa as a soul meditation
- Buddha bowls—my new fixation
(1) Remember this girl? She dictated an email to her mother today, to send to me. It was such a sweet starting point for the day and the perfect intro to General Conference. The conversation in the middle was an aside, between Scout and her little interrupting brother, Finn.
I have not gave you to say something to me. I want to say, "I am the Queen of Everything." But I need to tell you something. I have the Queen recipe. It is called the Queens' Cookies.
It has: sugar, milk, cinnamon, and yummy yummy spices and cream and jello.
Finn: Eww! I don't like those kind of cookies! They taste like poo!Then, you set it in the stove with oil, and before you put it in the stove, you can cut it into cookie shapes too, and put it to cook for uhhhh, 11 minutes I think.
Scout: No, why?
Finn: Because I don't want you to be the Queen.
Scout: Well, I'm not really, Finn, I'm just writing it to Georgia.
And then, I have another question: You can take care of the world, and I can take care of the world. I want to have a party on the next conference day, or today! And I want to invite all my cousins and aunts and uncles, and maybe Grandfather if he can come, and Ahma and Jeanne. I want to have that party, and I want it to be the prettiest, cleanest party about Jesus and us and how we can take care of the world.
That sounds like a great party. I'm in.
(2) General Conference was so very very good. To prepare myself, I wrote a long list of personal questions that concern me, ranging from simple yes/no to onion layer to pert-near-impossible-to-answer, and I was amazed at how many of them were addressed in some way, either through a talk, through music, through quiet consideration, or through discussion. I am eager for tomorrow's sessions. I wish everyone I know would listen and enjoy the inspirations to be had at this conference.
(2.5) When President Thomas S. Monson announced this just after 11:00 a.m., I screamed for joy. I'm not a screamer by nature, but the sounds came all the way up from my toes, I'm pretty sure. Three good loud primal hallelujahs, of sorts, which left me with a sore throat!
Maybe one day I'll write more about why I feel so connected to the Tabernacle, but it has a lot to do with many special meetings inside, stake conferences I attended, including one at which I gave a talk and had the most remarkable speaking experience of my life—yeah, yeah, shy me. So many happy church- and community-related events. The Tabernacle is part of my neighborhood and I pass it all the time. Our friends were the caretakers. I remember when the fire took it, I stood in the street all morning in the January chill, crying and watching it burn, unable to tear myself away until I could barely walk home, I was shaking so hard and my feet hurt so from the cold. It was a heartbreaking time. And now it's turned to something sweet. Lucky President Monson, getting to deliver such a happy message this morning. I can't wait for our second temple to be built, in my own backyard!
(3) While the guys were at their meeting this evening, I recruited the ladies and kids in the family to trek over just before dusk to see the old Tabernacle. It was fun to see the traces of other neighbors' celebrations: balloons, a sign. I'm imagining some dancing in the street, lots of picture-taking. I was too busy screaming at home to join them. We played a while beneath a big sycamore, and went home with glad hearts. Happy day!
|Time to celebrate!|
|Vanna White, eat your heart out! Here are the lovely and talented Ahma, Daffodil, and Eden|