The fleece is warm enough...(sung to the tune of a christmas classic)
We’re back - just beat yet another blast from this very strange winter, strange in that in this time so focused on the reality of human impact on weather and after a number of near non winter winters we’re getting buried in snow. And snow now falls outside, lots of snow and we’re cozy inside awash in and warmed, imbued by what are already becoming treasured memories of the trip just ended. We are always proud of our children, but never more so then we see their beauty reflected back at us in the loving faces of family. We sit, admittedly, a little out of breath, truly enjoying the safe confinement afforded a lovely winter storm. No pull of a visit or a trip to the store to drag us out from a cuddly and introspective day as we drink in both being home and also look fondly back at our time celebrating the holidays with family.
Now sure, there are moments, moments, for example, when you pack five people with skates and winter gear - two of them girls with the attendant requirement of fashion and function into a too small compact station wagon in preparation for one of the three multi hour legs of your particular christmas journey, moments when this seems not such a rational plan. In the end, even the travel turns out to be fun, with lasting memories for the parents and hopefully the kids. They are children of children of car travelers and it is in their genes. The kids travel beautifully. There are other moments when you dig a rumpled shirt out of a duffle bag, when you wait for a bathroom, when folks long passed being used to living together become re-accustomed to the closeness, there are moments when this just does not seem a rational choice. Those moments pass quickly and then you laugh and feel real love, real connection to family and to place and it seems the most rational of choices, it seems a necessity.
Your generosity was overwhelming, your hospitality inspiring. For those special people we missed over the holiday season, we indeed missed you and pine for a future communion. Thanks, simply, and just, thanks. I did, however, come away pondering two very deep and intriguing questions: why don’t we eat turkey every stinking day; and most importantly, what exactly is ‘Open Season’ for Blooms and Bushes - I mean really, does anyone remember the last time they drove by and didn’t see that damn, ‘Closed for the Season,’ sign out?
Love, all of us
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