Weekend

For Emma's birthday on Friday we went to dinner at Old Spaghetti Factory at Trolley Square.  They had gluten free pasta, but Mark couldn't of course eat the bread.  Ever since her gall bladder surgery, Emma can't eat lettuce (which is a weird thing, but I've heard other people have the same trouble).  They looked morosely over the table at each other for a split second (Emma loves salad) and I guiltily ate both.

It is just fun to be with those two though.  Adam and I mostly listen and are entertained.  In the car, Mark was playing songs because he is Mark and that is all he ever does in the car.  Emma asked if she could add one to the queue.  

She said, "This is the most intense song I know about bingo."

And it was both about bingo and intense.  We decided maybe we should play it next year during the Thanksgiving bingo game.

I love having Emma to share 

Saturday Adam and I headed to Nevada (and I am writing to you right now from my favorite perch, next to the fire looking at the view out of six windows).  There has been a LOT of snow here this winter.  My dad kindly and heroically plowed our road and Robert had shoveled our sidewalk.  My dad had to use a backhoe because the snow was so hard and crusted.  Adam and I got settled and just soaked up the relaxing silence and lack of responsibilities.

We take our life in our hands every time we walk out the back door with this ice overhang.  It eventually is going to crash down.

We went to my parents' house for dinner along with my sisters and some of their families.  We got stuck backing out of our little lane.  

I texted my mom that we were stuck and would be a little late.  I left my phone in the car and Adam and I each had a shovel and dug some of the hard knee deep snow so we could get out.

Apparently, I broke protocol.  My dad said, "You have to CALL when you get stuck.  I may not see the text."

I said, "I wasn't expecting you to come.  I was just telling you we were late."

They came anyway.  Robert and then my dad, on foot, because they didn't want to also get stuck on the narrow plowed track.  We just managed to get unstuck when they arrived.  We put all the shovels (theirs and ours) in the back of the Subaru and continued on our merry way.  

After a lovely dinner and visiting, when we were leaving, my dad restated the protocol.  "Call, don't text if you get stuck."

We made it home and on Sunday morning when we slid into the front row pew next to my parents at church, I said, "We didn't get stuck!"

My dad said we should start a tally, like construction companies' "_____ days accident free."  So we are officially Two Days without Getting Stuck.

My parents joined us for dinner after church and we had a pleasant few hours visiting with the sunshine streaming in the windows.  It must be said, the sunlight is sort of filtered because the windows are very dirty.  (Later Thelma's problem.)

In the evening we went to Olivia's and then Marianne's (didn't get stuck!).  We visited and Adam and I taught them Qwixx.

This morning, when I woke up, Adam had gone to town.  He had said the night before that he would go if he woke up early and I almost always wake up before him, but not this morning.  There were a few random things he wanted and the Johnsons need heavy whipping cream so he is going to get that too.  In all our times coming here, everyone constantly helps us so this is our return:  a quart of heavy whipping cream.

I guess you could say we are pulling our weight....

A year ago today we met with our contractor, Andrew, about the initial plans for our renovation.  I could not be more happy about how it has turned out.  We still have plenty of things we want and need to do, but it is a little bit of heaven to escape here.  When we are here I never want to leave and I plan the next time we can come.  

I love the neighbors.  I love the views.  I love the owl hooting in the orchard at night.  I love the picture of my grandparents hanging on the wall.  I love spending time here with Adam.

I almost (almost) feel fortified enough to face another week at school.