Back in Virginia

Well, my oldest girlie is five years old.  Her skin is not this yellow in real life.

She took her new age to heart, because I swear she’s already begun using more mature arguments.  She’s tried her new style of logic on me a few times already this week, wielding it surprisingly well.

Auntie Kristen’s first wedding shower in Virginia came up rather quickly, so the girlies and I cranked out a picnic blanket for her in record time and they took SUCH pride in how much they helped.  I fell completely and madly in love with this green fabric and it just happened to be half off!

How I love deals…

They make me feel like a better mother, and wiser steward, a keener buyer, I just stuck it to The Man, and a happier camper all around.

Moving on….

We love driving up to Virginia. Doc was born there, my girlies were born there, Doc’s ancestors for hundreds of years were born there, we spent the first four years of our marriage there….  we just love it.

Auntie Kristen looked lovely and had a large turnout.

The trickiest thing by far about being the recipient in showers of all sorts is pacing how you open gifts.   I’m serious!  It’s a delicate dance to keep opening them at a good clip so that people don’t get bored (it is kinda boring to watch someone else open presents for hours on end, don’tcha think?),  but giving enough time to each gift to let the giver know how much you genuinely appreciate their thoughtfulness.  It’s tricky, and she did beautifully.

Sniff…..  she’s growing up! Sniff….

My favoritist part about showers of all sorts is how it’s a chance for family to get all together in the same room.  This is Doc’s dad’s mom (confused yet?), a family friend who is practically family, his great aunt, two plain ‘ol aunts, and you can just see the edge of Doc’s mom’s mom’s hair. And this was just one row of several rows of folks who came!

The next morning I woke up early to a sunny, beautiful room.  Light wasn’t pouring through the tall windows next to our bed at Papa & Deeda’s house like it does most mornings,  but instead it was filling the room with a soft glow that mesmerized me and pulled my feet onto the hardwood floor, into my Birkenstocks, and out the door.

It’s the kind of early morning light that’s unique to Appalachia, I’m sure of that.  Clouds of fog settle into the valleys and hollows of these  green, quiet hills in the night; only to be lifted by a strong, clear morning sun, just like happened on this still morning.

Papa and Deeda bought this farm at auction several years ago.  It was a mess,  but Papa loved the land under all the mess and has worked hard cleaning it up for the past ten years.

The house they built on it is lovely, but I can’t bear to stay inside when we spend time there.  I don’t want to be a recluse and an irresponsible mother, though (tempting!),  which is why I stole out early the mornings we were there, so that I could just explore, inhale, and drink the whole experience in before my offspring awoke and my day officially began.

We’re back in Virginia in a few short weeks for Auntie Kristen’s wedding.  The girlies are so excited to be flower girls, I’m excited because they’re excited, and I think we’re all just looking forward to another excuse to be back in Virginia.


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