Most Christian faiths teach that the world ends in fire. The Second Coming of Jesus Christ will bring with it a righteous conflagration in which the wicked (and assorted innocent bystanders) are consumed.

Mormons are taught that as well but we don't really believe it. We more suspect that the Lord will come back wearing a parka and bury the wicked under a snowdrift over a mile deep.

We believe this because of something called "conference weather," specifically that no matter how nice the weather has been prior to the first weeks of April and October, it will snow/sleet/rain like hell during LDS General Conference.

I shouldn't have been surprised, then, when I got out of bed Sunday morning and found several feet of snow stacked against the back door. It hung in the doorway like a drunken friend before slumping blearily into the kitchen.

My first thought doesn't bear repeating. The second and far more productive was that I should go back to sleep for about a month.

I do not winter well. At the first sign of cold weather, I begin a long hibernation in a well-excavated recliner. I remain in this twilight state until well after tax season when I emerge dazed, ravenous and, once, sporting a DWR radio collar.

Occasionally, I'm lured outside too early by a brief stretch of warm weather. Such was the case last weekend when the sun came out and the temperature climbed into the tepid range.

Thanks to a couple of good days, I figured it was time to get ready for summer. But I had forgotten about conference weather. Now that I'm up, I might as well begin reacquiring full use of my arms and legs.

If you're a cave spud like me, it's important not to overdo the summerizing process. Start out slowly. After months of perpetual darkness, your skin isn't used to the sun. You could spontaneously combust simply by opening a door.

Begin by peeking out a window in 10-second intervals. When you can stand the light for a full two minutes, it's probably OK to go outside. Remember to blink.

Do not be alarmed if it seems like you're hallucinating. The moaning, grub-like, gelatinous creature is either your own reflection in a window or the neighbor across the street.

Considerable loss of muscle tone is to be expected during prolonged hibernation. So, regardless of what your wife says, do not immediately begin a strenuous regimen of yard work. Think about it for a while. Until about July is probably good.

As your visual and mental acuity return, begin enjoying some of the more strenuous summer activities — checking the mailbox, looking for the beer cooler, plugging in a bug zapper and setting up a lawn chair.

Only when you are fully acclimated to warm weather should you undertake anything strenuous such as mowing the lawn, picking up trash or washing the car. Even then it's probably a good idea to consult your doctor first.

By the time that you are completely summerized, it will be time to begin working on a hibernation cave again. Get to it before October conference.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or www.facebook.com/notpatbagley.