Yesterday was a beautiful day. Maybe the most beautiful day in the history of the world, as my dad would say. I love fall and when there's a sunny day in the fall (after I've recovered from the shock and picked myself back up after fainting) I am happy.
And yesterday, my house was clean (mostly) because I'd been a horrible slave driver Friday afternoon. My children had to turn their friends away from our doorstep repeatedly because the Mom Monster was rearing her ugly head. So Friday afternoon was not pretty.
But Saturday was.
Best of all, I had the delightful prospect of the General Relief Society Broadcast to look forward to. It is one of my favorite nights of the year. It is always wonderful.
Last night found me in the chapel of our church. I was comfortably situated amongst my friends. I had my notebook in my lap and my pen in my hand for note taking. I was ready.
Then there were technical difficulties. The feed from Salt Lake City stopped right during the opening song. We were able to pick it back up for a snippet of Sister Beck's talk but then lost it again.
Our valiant stake Relief Society presidency scrambled to feed us our dinner early and then we'd try to pick up the rebroadcast. The dinner was divine as is the custom of the stake RS presidency. Those women don't mess around. Every detail for our queenly pleasure is taken into consideration and I'm always grateful and feel loved as a result.
I loved chatting with my friends. I loved continuing the conversation that I started 6+ years ago with Janet that we'll never finish. We just have a lot to say to each other.
They were hopeful that the rebroadcast would work but by that point, my thoughts were turning to home and Adam. We've had a busy week...either one or both of us was away every evening and he'd been gone most of Saturday as well. I couldn't remember how he looked so I went home.
But I felt deflated. Even though I'd had an excellent dinner and enjoyed excellent conversation, I was not satisfied.
When my mom called and Adam answered the phone he told her (by way of warning?) that I was in a dour mood.
Dour might be too strong a word.
I lay on the couch and Braeden, my 13 year old in shining armor brought me a blanket. I said, "Not that one," to the scratchy grey blanket. He said, "Sorry, sorry..." and covered me gently instead with the soft blue blanket.
Maybe dour wasn't a strong enough word.
Braeden then started to quote funny lines from Corner Gas to me because since he was about three that kid has perfected his craft of cheering me up.
He was saying things like, "The metric system?! I got news for you Hank, we won the war," in his best Oscar Leroy voice and I started to laugh.
The boy has skills.
Later I was still feeling a little sorry for myself (I was just so disappointed!) and Adam gathered me in his arms and comforted me. Between Braeden and Adam, I think I'm set.
Then Adam and I filled out some pages in his restaurant guide and I felt even better.
(What? Writing restaurant reviews doesn't make you happy?)
Before I went to bed, Adam checked and told me that I could watch the broadcast online.
I'm pretty sure I went to bed smiling.
This morning, before church, I watched the General Relief Society Broadcast. It was indeed wonderful. I felt lighter. I felt like I wanted to be better.
I was finally fed.