Easter

In the distance, just over the hill, you can see the mountains. Aren't they just calling to you?!

Easter. At Grandma's. With a car load of friends. Buckle up.

     Road trips make me happy. When I was a kid and my mom was going out to pick someone up or run a quick errand I would always go with her for the ride. Sometimes I'd wait outside in the parking lot while she ran into the store. I just really liked to go places in the car. So being crammed into the back seat of a car for 3 hours with friends and snacks was a grand old time! We played ridiculous games and made a million inside jokes.

     Arriving at grandma's was perfection. Insta-love. Driving into the foothills at sunset, the spring season nipping at your heels and having an entire long weekend span before you. Nothing better. After we'd unloaded at the house, and Levi exclaimed there was "a copious amount of wood!", we sat down to hot home made, Grandma home made, dinner. I laughed to see my friends eat heaven in bread form. Pretty sure it's the same recipe they used to make manna for Moses and the gang.

    Our first evening finished by making a fire, listening to the eerie song of wolves howling and star gazing until the full moon rose above the trees.

    Saturday was a week packed into a day. We ate croissant french toast and made apple pie that was delicious. We stood by the piano and sang easter songs that filled the house with music. Decorated eggs. The 'bush' was thoroughly explored hour after hour.

 We braved the creek and crossed it without falling through, climbed hills, crossed fields and braved steep rocky slopes. Upon our return to the house, because this is such a magical place, the Easter bunny had made a visit. Exhausted from our adventures we sunbathed and slept on the porch. The 'wildlife' came for a visit and the overly friendly cat and Zach were inseparable. Before bed we read the Easter story in the bible then played a game while drinking cider from our mugs with cattle on them.

Victory in crossing the creek without falling through

     Of course this kind of thing always comes to an end. But I guess we wouldn't appreciate it half as much if it didn't. We did so much and had a beautiful time together. Late night talks. Belly aching laughter. Living care free. So many wonderful memories were made and maybe some traditions. Definitely one of those 'glory days' stories my kids will get sick of hearing. But they'll just have to deal with it because I'm not going to stop talking about it any time soon.

And by chance we all packed the same shirt. 

Over the River and Through the Woods

   Reading week was so wonderful. I spent it with my grandma on her ranch. The first thing we did was leave the city. Living in Edmonton I forget why all my life I've wanted to come to Alberta. But when I drive just out of the city limits I remember; Alberta is beautiful. It doesn't matter where you're from or where you're going, the open arms of the land embrace you, no questions asked. It just feels like home.

  After a few hours of driving we came to a little dirt road. Where it stops, wonderful things begin. At the end of that dirt road is the sweetest log house tucked in amongst the trees. Grandma literally lives over the river and through the woods.

Out here there's no such thing as cell reception and WiFi. Just rivers and mountains and forest. When you listen you can't hear cars or people. Most of the time you hear nothing. Think about the last time you really heard the sound of nothing. It's rare. When something does make it's way to your ears it's the sound of wind and birds and leaves. And it's lovely. You don't smell exhaust or the nasty smell in Edmonton that makes it way up from dark and dingy places. It smells like earth and water and trees. When we did laundry we hung our clothes in the open air. There's a reason they have a market for detergents that claim 'country fresh'. Nothing smells quite like wind dried clothes.

      At night there's no smog or lights to cloud your view. A full sky stretches above you and stars you didn't even know existed. And each one of them twinkle. Actually twinkle. It felt like getting a new prescription for glasses and seeing the world with sharper sight. The moon reflects off the snow and scatters blue light that dusts the wintry scene until it glows. When the sun goes down here even adults believe in magic.

    Grandma makes good old fashioned, hearty meals that feed your body. In the morning I wake up to Bacon, eggs, pancakes and toast. Sunday dinners are amazing. And her home made bread is a cure for pretty well anything. And I love it. But something about living out here nourishes your soul. It cleans the cobwebbed corners and airs the musty rooms. It makes you realize how amazing it is just to live. You're reminded that existence itself is a miracle. I wish I could bottle it up and take it home with me. But because I can't I guess I'll have to just keep going back for more :)