The tree is gone, the colored lights on the rooftop will soon be out, and the front room seems bare and wonderful without all the visual fuss. We returned from our week long trip to the Smokies refreshed and grateful to live somewhere it doesn’t often snow and rarely stays below 40 degrees in the daytime. There were ten inches covering every horizontal surface up at the cabin and it was glorious, once we got there (with new wrinkles from driving up the mountain on icy roads and minus a brake line after our snow chains snapped and cut through it). Henry was able to fulfill all his dreams -- Jason and Ellen brought sleds, he made snow angels, he started a zillion snowball fights, he (and Matthew) made an enormous snow man and even sculpted a little white top hat for it. He played for hours outside and then would come in and completely freak out as his hands warmed up and burned. We developed a ritual -- he would come in, crying and almost hysterical, and I would sit him on front of the floor vent in the kitchen and make him some hot chocolate and slowly peel away his layers as he warmed. By the time the mug was empty, all was again right with the world.
Dean enjoyed the snow too but was less enthralled by the coldness. He was just as avid a snowball maker as Henry but insisted on shedding his mittens over and over, and then would complain about how cold his hands were and try to stuff them down inside my jacket and sweater. He didn’t really like sledding but enjoyed just jumping in the fluff and sometimes tugging the empty sled around behind him. He mostly liked watching the fire and having Mommy and Daddy and Jason and Ellen around to read to and play with him all day long.
It took us two days of driving to get there and two days back (Dean is not a happy camper in the car), but we still managed to pack a lot into our three full days in the Smokies. Jason and Ellen made fabulous meals every night. We hiked down the Sugarlands trail on a very cold and lovely day, but then it warmed up and the next day we drove the Roaring Fork loop and stopped to get out at Bud Ogle’s Place. The boys loved running around and around in circles in and out of the dusty, bare cabin, and I loved watching the water dripping rhythmically off the melting icicles along the roof line. We worked up an appetite and decided it was time to venture into the Burg. God, Americans are fat. I think I write that after every trip to Gatlinburg. And we only contributed to the stereotype by buying a sack full of corn dogs. Heaven help me they were good, especially with a cold Belgian beer. Henry had never had one before (a corn dog, not a beer -- tho he hasn’t yet had one of those, either) and now he wants one wherever we go.
We had lovely crackling fires every night and Henry got to make s’mores, and after the kids were in bed each night we grown ups played Wits n Wagers and I’ve Never and some other games. I got to sleep in every morning and drink lots of gin and tonics and stare at snow-covered mountains...it was bliss.
And now home, and a new year. Not many resolutions this time -- I’d like to commit myself to my technological gadgets, make one last real stab at fully integrating the alleged wonders of technology into my life before I go completely Luddite and chuck it all in frustration. I’d like to read in bed more and take more leisurely baths. But that’s about it. I was pretty happy with 2010 -- the Saints won the Super Bowl, we got a new mayor, Henry got into a great school, Dean is thriving, Matthew and I enjoyed being parents and partners (happy 14th anniversary, baby), and I hope 2011 will be more of the same. Especially the Super Bowl part.
Dean enjoyed the snow too but was less enthralled by the coldness. He was just as avid a snowball maker as Henry but insisted on shedding his mittens over and over, and then would complain about how cold his hands were and try to stuff them down inside my jacket and sweater. He didn’t really like sledding but enjoyed just jumping in the fluff and sometimes tugging the empty sled around behind him. He mostly liked watching the fire and having Mommy and Daddy and Jason and Ellen around to read to and play with him all day long.
It took us two days of driving to get there and two days back (Dean is not a happy camper in the car), but we still managed to pack a lot into our three full days in the Smokies. Jason and Ellen made fabulous meals every night. We hiked down the Sugarlands trail on a very cold and lovely day, but then it warmed up and the next day we drove the Roaring Fork loop and stopped to get out at Bud Ogle’s Place. The boys loved running around and around in circles in and out of the dusty, bare cabin, and I loved watching the water dripping rhythmically off the melting icicles along the roof line. We worked up an appetite and decided it was time to venture into the Burg. God, Americans are fat. I think I write that after every trip to Gatlinburg. And we only contributed to the stereotype by buying a sack full of corn dogs. Heaven help me they were good, especially with a cold Belgian beer. Henry had never had one before (a corn dog, not a beer -- tho he hasn’t yet had one of those, either) and now he wants one wherever we go.
We had lovely crackling fires every night and Henry got to make s’mores, and after the kids were in bed each night we grown ups played Wits n Wagers and I’ve Never and some other games. I got to sleep in every morning and drink lots of gin and tonics and stare at snow-covered mountains...it was bliss.
And now home, and a new year. Not many resolutions this time -- I’d like to commit myself to my technological gadgets, make one last real stab at fully integrating the alleged wonders of technology into my life before I go completely Luddite and chuck it all in frustration. I’d like to read in bed more and take more leisurely baths. But that’s about it. I was pretty happy with 2010 -- the Saints won the Super Bowl, we got a new mayor, Henry got into a great school, Dean is thriving, Matthew and I enjoyed being parents and partners (happy 14th anniversary, baby), and I hope 2011 will be more of the same. Especially the Super Bowl part.
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