Good times in PG

I made a realization yesterday.  And after 20 months, you might say it's about time.  Yesterday I realized I really like living here.

There have been things all along that I liked.  And there have been things all along that I didn't like.  I mostly liked the climate, having a mountain literally in my backyard, the proximity to my family, and the sunshine.  (You may think that sunshine should be included in climate but after living in the Pacific Northwest for 13 years, sunshine merits its own category.)

Yesterday I think I once and for all fell for Pleasant Grove.  It's sort of a quirky place.  It's not even quirky in a conventional way, like say Portland or San Francisco are quirky.  It's quirky in its own really unique way.  There are very few national chain stores here and I almost always have to leave Pleasant Grove for any shopping.  The library is abysmal.  The roads are the worst.  Seriously.  There are more potholes than you would think a city would tolerate.  There are almost as many churches as potholes.  Maybe more.  And they open the temple baptistry now at 4:30 a.m. instead of 5:30 to accommodate all the teenagers that want to go before school. 

It's not a normal place.

Yesterday we discovered this peculiar little park.  The Young Men president told me about it at church.  There were directions that included driving up Battle Creek and turning at the really big house.  At least I think so.  When people start to give me directions, their voices resemble all the adults in Peanuts cartoons.  It's a miracle we found it (and I give all the credit to Adam).  We were walking around, trying to make sense of what it even was.  We happened along apple trees, full of blossoms, as well as lilacs in fragrant bloom.  It reminded me so much of my Grandma and Grandpa Dahl's house that I ached a bit.  We were leaving the park and Adam pointed out Grove Creek Canyon behind us.  It was absolutely beautiful.  I think I love this place, I thought.

We went home and the kids went out to the trampoline while I made a snack for us.  We read Clarissa's weekly letter and towards the end of it Mark said, "Oh, I just realized this letter wasn't from Braeden."

I don't know what tipped him off.  All the mention of New Zealand?

We settled down to watch Cranford because Adam and I are taking very seriously our responsibility to school our children in the art of British television and movies.  We are doing our best to raise anglophiles and it's working!  At a climactic moment in the movie, Emma slid off the couch onto the floor and Mark started whooping. 

Good period dramas will do that to you.

I guess this is all to say that it's a pretty good life.