After looking over the last month's worth of posts on this blog, it would appear as though there was a strange vortex pulling me slowly off the face of the earth.
There is no such vortex - unless it's called December.
Between Christmas parties, ornament exchanges, and our 2nd annual Mercy Street Christmas Party and White Elephant Gift Exchange, I haven't had as much time as I'd have liked to write.
Oh, yeah, and the whole going out of town for Christmas thing. We, along with Trey's parents and sisters and their families are all heading out this weekend to Crested Butte - a name my kids can't see written down without immediately giggling, imagining what the town would be called without the letter E.
They're really delightful childen when they're asleep.
Someone that my brother in law works with has a house there and have been gracious enough to let us all come stay. All 23 of us - 15 of us being children.
The kids are over the moon and haven't complained once about making the trip in a big white van that doesn't have cup holders for everyone.
Dea and Darius are a little skeptical about the whole -11 degrees thing but will love seeing the snow. I'm totally gonna nail them with snowballs because it's just one of the many ways I show love.
As I write, most likely to myself because no one even reads this blog anymore due to what I'm calling "the Great Month of Lame", we're passing through Dalhart, TX where everyone still wears boots and cowboy hats with their Carhart coats. It reminds me of A&M back in the day and makes me laugh once again that I'm often the only one wearing cowboy boots in the hood. Except for Miss Hannah and my mother in law.
My kids just asked for the 235,452,357th time if we were still in Texas.
Yes. Yes we are.
I've also decided that if your town's "Welcome to..." sign also says "Clean Restrooms", you've lost the ability to look at your homestead objectively. Look, you've got a tumbleweed, cotton fields, and the ability to wear a cowboy hat everywhere you go and not look like you're trying too hard.
I love these small sleepy towns and if it wasn't for the whole 'call of God' thing, I'd move here in a minute.
As long as you had a Target.
More to come on what is sure to be an eventful trip.
Wishing you a restful first day of Christmas vacation.
All of you.
Tap. Tap. Tap.