We’re back from our weekend away- and ahhh, does it feel good.
While we had a blast on the trip, I got some killer autumn pictures, toned up my quads by bike riding for the first time in….oh I dunno… years? and fell in love with the architecture (a common affliction I have with many of the places I visit), it’s always good to be home. The drive was a bit too long- and though I had almost convinced myself that I would like living on an island year-round and could figure out a way to buy a historic cottage there- the bite in the morning air reminded me that winter and I…we just don’t get along.
Unfortunately, this eternal battle with all things cold and hurty is a genetic one- my mom and sisters suffer from the same malady- which brings me to the sad portion of the broadcast. As of Wednesday, half of my family are pulling up stakes, escaping winter and moving down south– as in Waffle House, magnolia trees, “eyes tee” south. And while I’m happy they’re making the change for good reasons, I know the decision has been incredibly hard for everyone involved. Only part of it also involved the house in which I had experienced all my teenage angst. It’s finally been sold, but the sale is bittersweet for me. I could fill this posting with all the things I’m going to miss about the house- but I realize it’s the people in the house that made it a home. Which is really what anything is about in the end, right? It always comes back to the people.
While I was in a bookstore this weekend, I saw a refrigerator magnet- and while I know it’s silly to take comfort from something that holds up grocery lists- it also somehow fit the last few months for my family. Funny how that works sometimes.