Not pregnant, sorry

Although that would be a fabulous excuse for not posting as opposed to, "Nope, I really am just that lame all on my own without any gestating feti, actually." But thanks for asking.

For those who participated, I hope your Weekend o' Conference was good. Mine was one in which I was a Domestic Goddess Type Person.

Evidence:

Sunday morning made breakfast of pumpkin waffles with real maple syrup (using last year's frozen pumpkin puree, aw yeah), Julia Child's scrambled egg recipe, fresh apple juice, hot chocolate, and really cheap-trash bacon. We invited coolboy and his charming new fie-ance (Yep! Seriously!) over to share in the bounty. Then I lured them into staying longer by making chocolate-chip-Reese's-pieces cookies. Which were amazing, and I am right now eating the leftover dough as my lunch.

Dinner was a crockpot roast with carrots, potatoes, onion, and sides of fresh corn and peas. And a couple of Rhodes Rolls that didn't rise properly and therefore resembled hockey pucks in both taste and texture. Because maybe I need to be kept humble.

GH did the dishes like a champion, which meant that by the time it was all over he had washed nearly every dish and pot and pan we own.

During the different sessions, which were all great, I took notes and worked on Savvy's socks. And I pondered the same semiannual questions I always ponder, such as:

"Is it possible for Elder Scott to not seem like he's peering directly into my soul?"
"Which musical and/or poem will President Monson quote this time?"
"Do these women go to training sessions to learn to talk like that?"
"Should Sister Dibb be smiling quite so broadly when relating the story of a deadly construction accident?" (I'm putting that one down to nervousness at speaking in front of millions of people.)
"Do I need another cookie?" (Answer: no.)
"But do I want another cookie? Or four?" (Answer: Yep and Yep. And they were great.)

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