Thursday, February 7, 2013
If you give a girl the chance to flee the winter cold to warmer lands, she's going to take it.

(Except she'll wish that her husband could join her, but he, the studious man, cannot. No cheers for the harried student life at times). 

It's still a wonder to me that I've graduated from college and that I'm no longer "tied down" by school. My season for formal, sit-in-the-classroom education has ended and my spring of motherhood is blooming. I have so much more freedom now to leave, to go and do _______ (insert desired action) so long as Olivia can come. Like taking a whimsical vaca home, for example. That freedom is one sweet, enlivening irony of motherhood considering that the inside of my every day is pretty much pre-determined by that sweet, little human.

Yes, indeed, no midterm, quiz, class schedule, or paper stopped me from high-tailing it out of Provo in January to a much more pleasant place: my homeland, Santa Clara. 

Free at last.

My time there was perfect. I ran in crisp, fresh air. I read my old journals late at night when I should have been sleeping. I gave the drawers under my window seat a good cleanse - purged them of unnecessary papers from high school, while maintaining their dignity by letting some of my best works stay. Olivia was nearly gobbled up by both grandparents, uncles, and her one aunt, Kimbee (represent!). And since Talli and Taive were our comrades for this adventure, we played played played with them every day.

I can't say that I'm missing home, necessarily, because Ryan is so much of "home" now (although I always miss my family), but I'll go back as soon as the next train rolls in, so long as the Vineyard Home, the fam, and the red mountains will have me.

And these guys will join. 
And we'll throw on our jackets to go on walks, even when one child is begruding and the other bewildered.
And we'll hope that we get to see Kimbee off to another school dance - she doesn't have very many left...what a beauty, that Kimberlee.

And I'll watch the sunrise through the east window in my bedroom.
And I'll watch the sun chase away a storm through the window on the west side.
And after that, I'll probably ask if I can stay just one more day. Then I'll read my journals all over again. And again and again.


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