It was Malcolm’s chance, finally now, to deliver
the talk he had written several weeks prior – back before I messed things up.
He was SO nervous – especially multiplied by the fact that so many of his peers
were in attendance on this particular day. He did a fine job and I was sure to
let him know it – on several occasions!
In our conversation the previous day Roger and I
had both concluded that the blithering, anticipatorily tearful, travelogue singles’
testimony meeting could go blissfully on without us and we would head to my
usual Sunday School class, under the awesome tutelage of Brother Dadds – which
we did. I followed that up with my usual attendance at Relief Society. The fortuitous
thing was that both the regular block, as well as the singles testimony meeting,
ended simultaneously and I was able to catch a ride back to the hotel with
Connell. (Similarly as two days before the date I was to move from Birmingham
to Weymouth – and he had been scheduled to take me – and Bill suddenly said he
was NOW available, by which time I had moved on and made other plans, on this particular
Sunday morning Bill informed me that one of his women riders had fallen through
and that there was now room for me. Thanks! I’ve already made alternative plans
– too late to ride with Roger! Oh well, other places, other times.)
After church I hung out with Connell some more,
then followed him down for the one meal where I could actually sit down and
feel like one of the other guests. Chatted with Bill, Andy and Roger enough to
find out that they would be taking off soon after the dinner ended, as winter
weather was forecast to head down from the north – meaning snow by the time
they got to Birmingham. (I did have one brilliant thought – I talked to Bill
about working out a deal to get me, Becky (my sister soon coming to visit), and
all my junk – again! – now BACK to Birmingham.) As much as I would have liked to
have spent my time getting to know Roger better, it was soon goodbye – though
we agreed as soon as I returned, we would get together. (Can you believe that
several days after I arrive back to my long lost English home (Birmingham), and
to see Roger, he has a trip to Spain already in the offing and will be leaving within
days for the rest of the month. Well, fine!)
Several hours later at the hotel we had a ‘fireside’
– a video on the big screen in the bar about (hah - look what I typed in when I
was half asleep!) president monsoon, called ‘On the Lord’s Errand.’ ( Most of
the conventioners left after that, including Connell – a few hung on for one
more night of holiday. Cheese sandwiches with butter on white bread were then
served. I excused myself – to finally go up and get that long anticipated
beauty sleep – now no longer needed! Passing through the kitchen, in culmination
of the day, I helped myself to a scrumptious dinner – room temperature Brussels
sprouts (did you realize that that is spelled with a capital, also that it’s
plural, but NOT possessive? I didn’t!) and prunes. I really did –delish! (I’m
pretty easy to please – as long as it ISN’T white bread and something fatty!)
(In curiosity I had asked Loraine what the video
was about, and she had answered, ‘the prophet.’ I said, ‘well, WHICH prophet?’ To
which she said, ‘THE Prophet – the prophet who’s now, the current prophet!’
Somehow in my vernacular I do not think of the term ‘The Prophet’ in quite that
way. Do you?)
Photo_
Malcolm McKay (pronounced MÉ™·Ky’) – a good
Scotsman, a good fellow (with my dear friend, Carole, from Poole)
