(Good music for the morning)
When my youngest cousin was little, she would run through my great-grandmother’s house saying, “Nannie, morningtime! It’s Tuesday and you’re in Ternell!” The last bit was because at this point our dear Nannie was slipping and about every 15 minutes she would ask where she was, what day of the week it was, and if she could please have her purse. And “Ternell” was my little cousin’s way of pronouncing Pernell, the town that I grew up in.
Coffee. Have to make the coffee.
I think this thought at least 10 times before I get up out of my spot on the couch and do it. The morning is my favorite time of day. It’s when I have my quiet time and all in the house is still. I try my best to make as little noise as possible, so as not to wake the husband or the dog. No matter what though, even when she’s in the garage, puppy knows as soon as I turn on a lamp in the living room. I hear her yawn and shake, jingling her collar.
Coffee.
It is calm. I prefer it when the house is clean, but even when it’s a wreck this is the time of day when I can just be. This comes from a girl who never really had any use for mornings. I don’t know what changed me. Maybe it was 2 years ago when I worked an hour away from home and would have to get up as early as possible if I wanted any time to myself.
Morning. With a little rain, barely a sunrise. A house to be warm in. A soft place to sit and watch the day unfold. I am so thankful that I am learning to appreciate it early in my life. There is a time for sleep, but I must confess I prefer the waking.
This weekend was our planned (surprise) trip to Virginia Beach to celebrate Kevin’s Pop-Pop’s 80th birthday. As you know, snowed-in, no school, flight canceled, Dune, all that jazz…we didn’t get to go. Eightieth birthdays don’t happen that often and I know I was sad to miss it, I just know it disappointed my husband so much more. Lucky for us, we still get to go out for spring break to visit a few of Kevin’s family members in March.

Kevin, me, and Pop-Pop at our wedding.
Here’s to you, Pop-Pop, on your 80th birthday! We’ll see you after the spring thaw.
As requested, pictures of my new haircut. I had most of it chopped right off this weekend. It’s amazing just how much lighter I feel. What I need to do is go weigh in and see how much I lobbed off my total.
Umm, I didn’t bother to brush it or anything for you. Fresh out of the ponytail. That’s how I roll.
Our resident scamp turned 2-years-old today. The yard is still full of snow and she’s been enjoying it so much over the past week. I’m sure the (far, far) below freezing temps that we are going to get later this week won’t be welcome for the pup, so we will be bringing her inside.

Happy birthday, Clarabel!
Another driving day. You know how I love those. Only this day was better because it started out bright and sunny, no rain in sight.

Goodbye, red barns…

Red fields…

White steeples…

And hello again, bridge. I was thankful that we could see ahead of us while crossing it this time.
New Brunswick really is beautiful and I was glad that we got to enjoy it while driving back through. There’s something about pouring rain and potholes that makes the scenery, no matter how picturesque, a little less important.
I took a few naps on this trip. Much needed because even though I didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, my hands were getting tingly with a potential panic attack at the though that I would be going back to work in 3 days. Yuck. I used all the time to rest that I could and before you know it, we were almost to the border.
All it took to really wake me up from my nap was seeing this:

“What is that?” I asked Kevin. Neither one of us knew. What I was sure about was that there would be pictures of this thing.

Snap snap snap. I was being quite the paparazzo about this thing.

Then, the man turned. I captured just one shot of this glare before I put my camera down. He continued to glare at us until we had passed him. Dude! I just liked your…your…whatever you were driving.

We crossed the border back into the US and the agent that questioned us had a thicker Canadian accent than anyone we’d met on our trip. This is also the part where I smuggled a seashell back into the country. And not that we would, but I can tell you, it would have been totally easy for us to bring something illegal back into the country. They barely gave us a second look. Surprising, given how threatening we both look.

Back in Maine there was more driving and when we arrived back in Manchester, New Hampshire we were both starving. We had dinner that night at Famous Dave’s Barbecue (one of our favorites that we do not have in OKC) and then slept in The Best Bed. I was so sad that our last night (and an early morning to top it off) were to be spent on the most comfortable bed of the trip.
Out of Manchester we flew and we arrived back in Oklahoma later that next afternoon.
Back in our neighborhood with a car full of birdseed…

Across the threshold…

And home…to this:

Ahh!
Thanks for tuning in for this long, drawn-out series. I’ll try to think of another one that might interest you guys in the future. Question is, what do you want to hear about?

