Grateful Friday

 Last night, Adam and I decided to come to Nevada a day early.  For one thing, to beat the storm.  For another thing, Adam said, “Let’s go!” And he is infinitely more spontaneous than I am.

So I am writing to you sitting next to the stove, enjoying its warmth and the falling snow outside.

This is the predawn picture out the bedroom window.  My dad said we should name the place Whispering Hush, as in what the old lady in Goodnight Moon says.

It feels appropriate this morning.

I am grateful to be here with Adam.  We held hands and listened to a podcast while we drove.  We had a bizarre cultural experience at Smiths in Wendover where we stopped for Tylenol.  He emptied the mouse traps when we got here (ugh—good news is that they are empty this morning.  No new mice.)  He read to me before I fell asleep and I love having him read to me.

I am grateful to my dad for turning on the heat before we arrived and I am grateful to my mom for inviting us to dinner.  I said, “you don’t have to feed us.”

She said, “I won’t every time.”  She has said that every time we have come so far.

I am looking forward to spending time with my family this weekend.

I am looking forward to watching snow softly fall on a dreamy landscape that was my childhood.