You aren’t hallucinating: this is a blog update.
It’s been embarrassingly long since I last updated, and not for lack of trying. Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you, and next thing you know you blink, it’s almost mid-March and you still haven’t filed your taxes (I suck so much at adulting right now that it’s just sad).
This post will be told in three parts revolving around three separate fires. Enjoy!
Sitting around the fire, a cold Blue Moon in my hand, felt like when you loosen up a belt that’s far too tight; I could feel the stress and tension of the week unraveling with each crackle and pop of the fire and flicker of the flames.
The night continued with pot roast, warm rolls and chocolate mint Oreo pie. Bed time came early, and I was grateful for it.
Woke up to a large breakfast, big pot of coffee and sunshine. Took a long walk around the lake, waving to neighbors and shedding layers of sweatshirts as we went.
Craig and Mona left after our morning walk, and my family came for lunch. We ate, then walked around the lake again, visited friends, then spent some time claiming our youth at Ashton Park.
The night concluded with dinner, goodbye hugs and kisses before we stoked the fire for another go. A surprising and welcome visit from the neighbors made for interesting and entertaining fireside conversations before we turned into pumpkins and called it a night.
Lazy and cloudy, we raked and played, biked and napped, ate and vegged before gathering wood for the final fire of the weekend.
As the fire burned, we practiced howling at the moon, to the annoyance of the ducks that were passing through.
This past weekend reminded me of how thankful I am for the things we have: a new home, great neighbors, a quiet community, huge backyard surrounded by nature, and family.
Waking up Monday was rough, but worth it.