Someone asked me yesterday if my family has any traditions
involving general conference. I know a lot of families do. Some gather with all
their cousins for homemade cinnamon rolls and sausage-and-egg breakfast
casserole. Others do a big family picnic between the morning and afternoon
sessions on Sunday. I’m told restaurants that sell ice cream or pie get swamped
after the Saturday evening session lets out. When I was very young and we
watched conference on TV, every time the tabernacle choir sang, we looked for our
family doctor’s white hair in the baritone section. More recently, we’ve gone
for a scenic drive while listening the Saturday morning session, and hit a drive-through
window for lunch before heading home. This weekend, though, I’ll probably
stream conference while mopping floors, doing laundry, and binding a few small
quilts. I’m a much better listener when my hands have something to keep them
busy.
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