When the Universe Gives You a Pony...

"George Washington's pants really dominate the scene," said Vivian. "I'm thinking of making some especially for Chris to wear."

That was my first clue that things were getting serious with our art-reenactment plans for Thanksgiving. My next clue was when the sign-up sheet for props included a pony. "I'll bring scarves," I said.

Fast forward 6 weeks to when we all arrive at Mom's for Thanksgiving and find a white bouncy horse toy just hanging around the backyard. Magic.

The white horse is one of my favorite parts of this picture, but there are so many. Resolute Claire channeling the brown horse is one. Chris, with his sports socks, determined stance, and closed eyes is another. Sarah's puffed cheeks, Gordon and Rachel's bookended action poses, and the plastic sheet iceburgs are some others. Mom's grizzled rifleman cracks me up every time. I love the fact that Vivian looks more than a little bit like Bono along for the ride. The grass on the driveway makes me happy too. Of course it's Rachel's seamless editing that makes it a work of art.
This year, I would like to thank the universe for a white plastic bouncy horse, and for my spectacular family. I'd cross the Delaware with you guys anytime.

Flying Over Auberry

When I was flying back to SLC after Thanksgiving, I looked out the window as my plane took off and saw 168 below me. I casually watched it meander towards the Foothills, fully expecting us to veer more north like my flights usually do...but I noticed we just kept flying over 168. It became hard to follow once the terrain became hilly and I started to think I had lost the trail after a while, but then...hey! That semicircular cluster of buildings has got to be Foothill! And hey, that's Canyon Fork! Which means somewhere after the church the trailer park should be about there, which it is! and I bet that darker area is where the creek goes, and that means home is... right there. I stared at the little spot for a long time. Finally Blue Heron moved out of view of my little window and we kept going past where the Camp would be, past Shaver Lake, past Huntington, after which I didn't recognize anything. 

Has this ever happened for you guys before? Maybe it's not that crazy but I thought it was trippy and heartwarming to think that if Mom/Sarah/Grandpa/Carrie/Lucy/Theo happened to look up into the sky right then I would be waving at them from a plane.

It was a view of home I had never seen before.