Baby, it’s cold outside

There was snow this morning when I opened the door. Ice shimmered on the porch steps leading to the path to the school. Soft fluffy flurries swirled and blew so thick that I couldn’t keep my eyes open against the flakes. But I couldn’t stand to look away either. What breath taking magic!
I promised Eastyn that when snow came, I would “look at all all all of it” with him. He’s been watching and waiting for snow for weeks. He giggled when we opened the door. His eyes looked up at me and his whole face was lit with the excitement only a five year old can have. At 8:45, the sun hadn’t joined us for the day making the moment all the more magical. Eastyn’s eyes looked at mine. His little feet all snug and warm in his boots did a little dance and he turned in the snowfall, laughing.
But school starts at 8:45 and we were already running late, so our celebration was short. I walked with Eastyn down the steps and pulled his hood up and kissed him good bye. He ran into the school building, stopping here and there to look up at the sky. He was still laughing at the door.
Sometimes it’s snow that makes a moment magic. Sometimes it’s the one we share it with. Sometimes it’s unexpected or long awaited. Or both. Whatever it is, whatever makes a moment like that leave us warm the whole day through, I am grateful for it.
Here’s to two minute celebrations. May you find them as they find you.

13 days and counting

I will miss being able to take an afternoon and drive to a new version of Texas. Texas is full of so many different landscapes. We live at the edge of hill country, but we can drive to the coast, to the desert, to the hills or to wooded areas any time we have the time. We can see Dallas or SanAntonio or Galveston, all very different cities.
I will miss the sitting on the porch in the cool of late evening and drinking a cold soda on the porch. Or the way the Texas heat makes ice cream all the more a treat and children in summer time pools a way of life.
I will miss our small town mercantile that has all of about nine things on the menu, but all the community and connection you could never find in mall or in on-line shopping.
It turns out that as I pack up our dishes and decide which family photos to keep or which of my children’s framed art pieces to take with us, I will miss quite a lot of Texas. I will miss the youth group we fostered, the starry nights, the screen door slamming shut as the boys run off to play by the creek. Our church, our neighbors, our friends.
I can’t wait for the next chapter, but damn this Oglesby chapter was hard to let end.
See ya’ll later. We’ll miss you more than we can even imagine.