I adore General Conference Sunday. We have friends over for breakfast, we listen to inspired words from the leaders in our church, and I crosstitch. Could it get any better? Eight hours has never seemed so short. When I was a kid, the time just dragged and between meetings on Saturday and Sunday, I thought it would never end. Now, I am sad to hear the closing song and know that I have to wait six more months to do it all again. Although, I can re-experience the talks almost instantly, so that is fabu.
This year, I had two extra stitchers.
They are doing very well, and even if they only get their stuff out every six months, I will take the company when I can get it. Ivory begged and pleaded and I finally let her join in on the last session. Consequently, I didn't get much done, but that isn't really the point. Crosstitching has become more of a marathon event for me. I'm thinking that I haven't really picked my own project up since last October. That is okay. Seasons....seasons.
On a whim, Robyn and I put together a lighted room for the kids afterward.
The big box is from the new dishwasher. (Yes, we finally caved. I had taken over the bulk of dishwashing, which wasn't bad, but I will be the first to admit that I was never on top of them. There was always half a sink full and I was always remembering too late that we needed more spoons for cereal. So yeah for modern-day appliances. Once again—how in the world did the pioneer women do it?) The kids really dug it. They played in it all afternoon, until some of the lights short-circuited. They were pretty old lights we found in the garage.
So, tomorrow Monday will bring all the things I put aside to just relax and enjoy my favorite Sunday of the Year. That sounds less fun.