1. It’s nice not to be the only ones with small children.
2. I originally intended to title this post “home sweet home,” because that’s what the Black Hills used to be to me. Though I was a transplant, not a native, I felt as though I belonged there in a way I’ve never felt since. I thought I’d live out the rest of my days there. It broke my heart to move away. And on every subsequent visit, leaving was almost as excruciating as moving away all over again. Ok, perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic. But I’ve always harbored a small hope, however unlikely, that we’ll move back there some day. But things felt different this time. In lots of ways, it just felt like a vacation in a pretty place. Leaving wasn’t a big deal. Perhaps my heart has faced reality. Anyway, as long as our siblings live there we’ll always have a reason to visit.
3. I sprained my ankle a week before this trip. Bad. And stupid. A million thanks to my brother-in-law for renting me that awesome scooter. We had good times together. And I always had a place to sit down, even when no one else did!
4. Another million thanks to my parents for planning this trip, preparing food in advance, and chasing after the grandkids all week. You are beyond awesome! Can’t wait for next year…