I just had my daily bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce -- the dinner Ben and I made our first night, apparently cooking for 20 instead of twelve. It seems to be the protein boost I need at most
Our week in Colorado is wrapping up. Though I brought two novels and a journal to fill my time while everyone skied, I have not touched them, which really is no surprise. Moyer family vacations -- regardless of who is or isn't skiing -- are full of many things, but never quiet reflection. This week has been full of conversations, snacks, drives through snow storms, tears before ski school, beaming pride after, cold hands, big family dinners, drop offs and pick ups, exploring, coat shopping (see previous entry), reports about skiing at 45 degree angles from Max and Ben, waves of nausea, occasional naps, cousin polar bear plunges egged on by uncle and aunt, hot tubbing on the deck, late night milkshakes and tater tots, episodes of Parenthood, and much cousin play.
The reality of the move hits unexpectedly. Yesterday, I realized I should delete a few things from my calendar, like Silas's art class two days after we leave. So I started clicking here and there, but unlike a paper calendar where you just cross things out, google calendar pops up a box asking to delete "only this instance" or "all following." Such finality! Over and over I had to click "all following" until I was just laughing at the tears streaming down my face.
And today is March 1. March. The month of the move when the date itself forces a countdown: 28 days.