I grew up on ten acres on the outskirts of a small Southern town. As a child, my best friend and I played in the woods with my dogs, pretending to be Indian princesses or fairies until my parents called us in for dinner.
When I moved to Exile, the culture shock was extreme. So many people, so much noise, traffic, horns honking … it’s overwhelming. Watching B navigate childhood here has been, at times, terrifying – but our hard, nerve-wracking work has paid off. Continue reading
This is B and his friend A, playing with cars. I love that the boys are both wearing their blue school uniform shirts!
- Golden Rule 101
B brings home a folder full of assignments every day, and proudly shows us his work. I particularly liked this assignment on good vs. bad actions – perhaps this will help him develop the empathy necessary to understand why hissing at the cat and chasing the dog with Tonka trucks is not the way to make friends. (Seriously, every time he’s mean to the animals, I’m sure he will grow up to be a serial killer.)
A has a bo-bo, and B is helping to make him feel better - especially sweet as A and his family moved across the country last month, and we miss them!
In my head, I’d posted these photos already. In reality, not so much.
Mr and I had a great New Year’s adventure – we traveled out to Lake Tahoe, where Sweet Rickey lives, to celebrate her marriage to her Mr, Sweetie Pie (herein, “SP,” because I cannot type that with a straight face. Love you, mean it.)
Let me tell you, Tahoe is nothing like Exile. It’s beautiful – mountains, trees, snow!! – green, clean, and fabulous. The lake itself looks almost unreal, even when you’re standing right on the shore.
I’ve been known to say that I’m built for comfort, not speed (I stole that line wholesale from Nicole Peeler), and I mean it. I am not an outdoors(wo)man, never was, never will be. The occasional camping trip, provided I have access to a shower and toilet, will not kill me, but it’s never, ever going to be my first choice. Outdoor sports? No way – remember, I broke my ankle in Tahoe without even leaving the apartment! Mr was hoping to ski, but we opted instead for snow shoeing. I figured, hurtling down a mountain on sticks? versus basically walking on tennis rackets, on a flat surface? No brainer.
P.S. We totally took the easy way back to the lodge.