Where Everybody Knows Your Name

So many loved ones to visit, so little time. It’s a wonderful problem, really.

We spent most of the weekend in our hometown. Actually, Salem is no town— it’s a Big Little City.

It seemed each place we visited to meet up with friends, we unintentionally ran into others. I forgot what it was like to literally bump into an acquaintance every time I venture out of the house– most often rocking yesterday’s mascara and uncombed hair.

I’ll admit, while the happy reunions were a welcome distraction from the anxiety over Little Man’s looming surgery, it was also kind of emotionally exhausting. In some ways, living in the wide open spaces of Big Sky Country has made us introverts. It’s also bittersweet to reconnect, knowing the inevitable goodbyes are close behind.

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paternal grandparents
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Husband’s sister and her new husband

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We quickly retreated to the beach for some much needed R&R before surgery day. It was Little Man’s first trip to the ocean.

Until we moved to a land-locked state, I took for granted the blessing of a mere one hour jaunt to the beach– which we took advantage of an average of once a month my entire life. It feels great to breath the oxygen dense air at sea level again. The salty mist a welcome reprieve from the pollen of the valley, like a constant saline nasal spray. Standing at the banks of such enormity reminds me of my insignificance and importance, simultaneously.

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first glance

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not yet a fan of the sand & surf in his toes
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we’ll call it a bassinette, Husband’s late grandmother taught me this trick
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poor Husband, he works hard for the money– China took all his time off
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clam chowder at Mo’s
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we always visit little sister’s brick at the aquarium while at the coast


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