Life is full of seasons. Duh. I don’t have to tell you that.
Some seasons are full of the type of day when your head springs off the pillow in the morning, and you sing in the shower, and a long lost rich relative sends you money in the mail, and random strangers smile at you as you skip down the sidewalk bathed in a pool of fresh sunshine.
Other seasons are marked by days when the shower handle breaks off in your hand while the water is stuck on cold, and you discover there’s no milk left after you pour yourself a bowl of cereal, and you get a flat tire on the way to work, and when you finally get there you find out your boss handed out raises while you were gone but you weren’t there so you didn’t get one.
My past year has certainly had both seasons—365 days worth of tears, laughter, and embarrassing experiences.
It’s covered more than 300 early morning alarms, long walks and talks, and dinners that are usually on the go. It’s been enough time to form a handful of good friendships, get a new job, have a new baby (!), go on a tiny vacation, spend time with family, and watch four seasons pass in colorful splendor.
Here’s to another year of seasons, with (hopefully) more blogging to document the days.
Curtis (he’s very wonderful) had to wait 25 years to see the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile. Baby Graham got to see it at 23 days old.