Last weekend, I went with Ann Girl and Adam. Needless to say, it was an adventure, as things always are with those two. After the long drive (which seems to grow shorter every year), we grabbed our treat that we never go to Manti without getting: piping hot, sugary sweet, honey butter drenched scones topped with loads of powdered sugar. So much powdered sugar, in fact, that I couldn't help but blow most of Adam's into his face. But only after he started it.
I think I finished that fight, though.
Scones, hamburgers off the grill, homemade root beer in pretty glass bottles -- quite the nice little picnic under our baby tree, which provided just enough shade for the three of us.
And then the pageant! Yes -- it's still cheesy. Yes -- they really should update that script. And yes -- I cried, just like every year.
It makes me feel something, you know? It reminds me of things I've forgotten, of things that are important to me that I overlook during the day-to-day struggles and adventures of life. That's one of the reasons why I go: I want to be reminded.
I love this temple.
And I love these people!
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