January 7

It seems appropriate that as I sit here writing on the eve of our return flight to California, my entire family is camped out in the adjacent dining room of my grandma's house singing along to the John Denver hit "Take Me Home, Country Roads" (which was, as legend has it, partially inspired by a road in Maryland. But I digress).

It's been a bizarre trip to my home state, courtesy of flight delays and the ginormous COVID outbreak and snow. And it's required a tremendous amount of flexibility -- probably more than I could ever muster on my own strength. But still, even amid the challenges, it's been good.

Today was a slow one: with the exception of a late-after trip to Ledo for pizza by Adam, we hung around grandma's house all day long. It snowed again overnight (as the photo in the upper left connotes: I got up at 3 AM and padded out to the dining room to look outside and that's what I saw). When the boys saw the fluffy stuff this morning, they suited up in layers of clothing, grabbed a pair of shovels, and headed out to the driveway to... well, to shovel. With a small amount of success: It was windy and the snow was of the airy variety, so it blew here and there and to and fro, and even as they worked to move it out of the way, it seemed determined to relocate itself to its original locale. (Which was okay with Isaac and Brady.)

For my part, I mostly stayed inside and crocheted and watched grandma watch TV. I guess that sounds weird, but I can remember her crocheting and making stuffed animals for the babies at the hospital all those years ago in that very same room while I watched TV, so in my mind, the role reversal felt poetic. 

Anyway, after lunch and a few hours inside, the boys went out yet again, this time to make a snowman Brady named Fernando. And then there was the aforementioned pizza dinner, during which we somehow got on the subject of my upcoming birthday and how Adam put 43 candles on my cake last year, which prompted Adam to show my grandma a video of me blowing out said candles. (Hence the pic of her smiling in the collage. I like that picture; it feels genuine and real.)

So yes, that was today. It was yet another simple day in a string of simple days, but it was a good day that melded my past with my present. And I am thankful for the hours.

January 6

It was another low-key day. Adam worked from grandma's office, the boys played in the basement, and Abby and I went on a shopping excursion (during which I wowed her with my extensive knowledge of the area. As I explained, you learn your way around when you have a 45-minute, traffic-pocked drive to school each day.)

Anyhow, a short time after Abby and I got back, my mom returned with my grandma, who she'd taken out to run a few errands. As we all stood around in the kitchen, I summoned the boys to say hello and then handed Isaac my phone so he could take some photos.

And behold, four generations of women: Abby at 17, me at 43, my mom at 75, and my grandma at 99. 

None of us are what I'd call carbon copies of one another; although we share some traits (like a love for creating various types of textiles and an inclination toward worrying), we're all our own distinctive people with separate --and in some cases very different-- preferences and opinions. And I've definitely learned quite a lot about this life we share from each of them. So for the blessing of them, I am grateful.

January 5

There were two lovely parts of today.

The first was a meet-up with my very longtime friend Gretchen at the Damascus Mothership. We first met when we were about six years old, and although we've not always been in touch, we've been close for the past several years. She's been an amazing example of perseverance and bravery in the face of tough circumstances, and I am so proud to call her a good friend. Anyway, it was such a cup-filler to see her face and to have a few hours to just sit and talk.

The second was dinner with my mom. Since Adam had to work, the kiddos and I headed over to her house at about 5, and then we all left en masse for the Cheesecake Factory. We had a good time sitting and chatting and just being together as we ate. 

Hours and minutes spent with good friends and family are hours and minutes very well-spent, and I am thankful.

January 4

It was a mostly quiet day here at grandma's house. 

Adam settled in to the living room (and a little later, the office) to work, while we trickled into the kitchen one by one for donuts and coffee (well, Abby and I the latter. The boys are naturally caffeinated). 

Isaac and Brady then asked if they could go outside to play in the snow, and I said sure. So they scrounged around for coats and hats and gloves and trooped out to the backyard, where they dropped to their bellies and to taste the glistening snow. And made snow angels and played football using Isaac's beloved Slime Dog as the ball and had a generally grand time together in the 30ish degree temps.

Later in the day, I snagged Abby --who'd been reading for some time-- for a shopping trip. We hit the east coast iterations of a number of our usual west coast haunts, and she even got to scrape snow from the windshield after a chunk fell from the roof (oops). A beautiful sunset and a trip through the Roy Rogers drive-thru later (where I got my very own empty cup, which I got to go inside to fill using the fancy-schmancy soda machine), we drove back to grandma's, where we enjoyed another quiet evening. 

It was, all in all, a lovely day. A low-key day. I loved seeing the boys happily frolicking in the snow. I loved the time with my girl. And I loved the moment when, as Abby and I sat in the family room watching Dr. Phil with grandma, she turned to us with this bemused expression on her face, lifted her shirt ever-so-slightly, and exclaimed "guess what? I'm not wearing a bra!" (That's my grandma sometimes.)

Sweet moments. Funny moments. Pretty moments. Good moments. All blessings.

January 3

In the weeks leading up to our trip here to Maryland, Isaac fiddled with his phone during the ride from Brady's school drop-off to his own each morning to check the forecast for signs of snow. And each day, he was bummed to report that none appeared to be on the horizon. Although he was disappointed by the too-warm-for-snow temps and general lack of precipitation predicted, he stayed optimistic. It didn't look good, but it could still happen, he reasoned.

So yesterday we trekked around DC in 60-degree temps. And then today --because nothing about this trip has been normal-- the sun rose and a previously unexpected snowstorm barreled through. 

It was an unusual kind of weather event for the area, since it socked southern Maryland and Virginia with nearly a foot of driving snow and terrible road conditions while leaving the mid (where we are) and western sections of the state --which are usually the places walloped by storms-- with just enough of the white stuff to fill Isaac and Brady with glee.

Anyway, they headed outside during the late-morning hours and built a wee snowman, and then a little later, Brianna suited up in her winter gear to show them the sledding hill in the backyard. So I went outside for a short while --because it was 25 degrees out and I'm no longer a fan of that brand of chilly-- and watched them in action. I took in their smiles and their laughs and the way they seemed to fully experience the snow in a way that only a kid can: with complete joy. Brady was red-faced and clearly freezing in two pairs of pajamas and an open jacket, but he was having a fabulous time. And I loved seeing that joy.

The rest of the day? Well, I mostly finished the blanket I began on the flight here, and the kiddos enjoyed a few games of cards with their cousins, and we took a very quick walk (because again, the cold is too cold for our warm California blood). And then we packed up our bags and, since we've been well, we headed back over to my grandma's house. We had a nice stay with Bobby and Reaya and the cousins, but I know grandma missed having us around. We brought Ledo's pizza for dinner, and she was happy to welcome us back. The boys were happy to be back in the basement playing pool, Abby's happy to be in a room of her own, and I've been happy to watch a Hallmark movie and to watch my grandma laughing at an old episode of The Golden Girls from across the family room. 

So the moral of the story? Keep hoping, even when what you're hoping for feels like a pipe dream, because only God knows what's really in store for us.

January 2

We arose early(ish) this morning and hit the road for our day in Washington DC.

Traffic was Sunday light and it was surprisingly easy to find (free! Woohoo!) parking along the street near the National Archives and the FBI Building. And then we were off for some fleet-footed sightseeing in near-balmy 60-degree temps.

We walked along the National Mall which afforded numerous different vantage points of the National Monument. We also stopped at the World War II Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Vietnam War Memorial before swinging by the White House and the 56 Signers of the Declaration of Independence Memorial (which I didn't even know was a thing until today) and taking a gander at the National Christmas tree.

We finished our DC time with a stroll through the National Museum of American History, where highlights included a bare-chested sculpture of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln's hat, the Ruby Slippers from "The Wizard of Oz," an interactive Price is Right game, and an exhibit about Route 66.

So here I am, post-Red Robin dinner, post glass of prosecco, mid-Sunday Night Football game, sitting with my brother, my daughter, and my nephew, half-listening to the din of their conversation about the Pants Gnome's pants as I type. I have more than 23,000 steps on my Fitbit and just about everything below my waist aches, but I'm content. And that's a blessing.

January 1

I'm not much of a resolution-maker, mostly because I don't think January 1st is the only time to decide to work toward being a better human being. I like to think that I'm doing that every single day, regardless of my circumstances or feelings or natural (read: oft selfish) inclinations. Just a thought I'm entertaining as we get settled into the new year.

We didn't have any plans so we didn't do a lot on this first day of 2022; just a quick mid-afternoon run to the nearby Mothership, dinner with my dad at a Mexican restaurant (and man alive, was there some dense fog during the drive! Reminded me of the times I drove home from dance as a teenager unable to see more than five feet in front of me), and then a rousing game of Class Struggle when we returned to the house after dinner. 

And now, I will do as I'm wont to do when I'm home and crochet as the others continue to play on the floor in front of me. I've been working on a blanket during my time on the east coast, and it's coming along nicely, stitch by stitch, row by row. Kind of like life -- stitch by stitch, row by row, it grows and takes shape according to God's design.