Last Saturday as I was gearing up for the usual weekend errands and chores, Dave walked in the front door with our suitcases; "How quick can you pack your things for the weekend?" He knows my love language, quality time (especially spent on a road-trip with my curated "road-trip" playlist on the car stereo). I looked out the window at the never-ending white of snow and clouds, and then gazed down at my pink-robed self. I wrapped my arms around his neck, "I'll be ready in under thirty minutes." It dawned on me that I'd just combined my sourdough starter, flour, salt and water to make a loaf of bread for the upcoming week. I decided to dump it all into a zip-lock back and put it in the fridge for the week-end. At worst it would be a loss, at best it would have a nice slow ferment and still turn into a tasty loaf.
February. The month of love. Also the month of a new grand-daughter's birth.
Celebrating the birthday of another grand-daughter.
Celebrating my own Wyatt's birthday.
Our own wedding anniversary.
And then reflecting on the passing of my Daddy. Sometimes I get so caught up in the still unbelief that my mother has passed that I forget that Daddy has also passed. So the month of love is a mixed bag of so much joy for the people I am blessed to be surrounded by, sprinkled with a never-to-be-filled sense of longing for the person I love and miss so much.
There are two places in the world that I feel closest to my father. Attending the temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. And any National Park. As I'd promised, I packed my suitcase in under thirty minutes (a personal record for me), texted our neighbor if she'd be okay to watch our furry friends, turned the faucets on to a slow drip (mountain life in the winter), and headed south to slightly warmer, sunnier climes.
We arrived at the temple https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/?lang=eng around 2 PM and had enough time to linger and feel the Spirit and the peace that is present every time we attend. To be able to walk through the doors and leave worldly worries and concerns behind for a few hours and focus to focus on the true meaning of this life and the importance of family love is such a gift.
We stayed the night in Cedar City. I think because of the President's Day Weekend there was only one room available. We were told it was a Queen bed, but were preeeeetty sure it was only a full-sized. To this day I do not understand how my parents slept in a full-sized bed their entire marriage. I'm pretty certain Dave could sleep on a bed made of concrete. I, on the other hand, have day-mares of being unjustly thrown into prison and the worse thing about it would be to not have the exact right pillow, mattress or sheets. I worry about what they'd offer in the way of food as well, but the bedding situation. That really freaks me out. Also lotion. Do they let prisoners have lotion?
Later that night after eating at a not-so-great Mexican food restaurant, we went to the movie "Wonka". So good, I'd pay full-price to see it again. Such a pure, tender, heart-warming story. Such a rarity to come out of Hollywood these days. 10/10 highly recommend.
Next morning we headed to Zion National Park.
Face the camera please?
And now a profile shot. Thank you.
There are only a handful of things in this world that have left me speechless. Zion National Park is one of them. Seriously. Nearly without speech. There are not enough superlatives to express how I feel about this natural wonder.
We drove and visited with each other. Ooohh'd and aaahhhh'd at all the things. I held my phone out the window with a gloved hand to capture pictures and video. The temps were in the mid-50's. Not exactly a heat wave, but still enough of an escape from the mid-winter temperatures of home and our tiny cabin.
Monday morning after our hotel breakfast of eggs, oatmeal and fruit, we headed back home, taking the long route by way of Capitol Reef National Park.
Driving by this tiny stone house:
Me: "Dang Dave.....who could even live in a place so small?!"
Dave: "Us. We live in a place so small."
He's not wrong.
Taylor and Natalie like to take their family to Goblin Valley to camp. We've never been so decided to take a slight detour to check it out. It's like visiting a different planet.
We did the "Vacation - Chevy Chase" look around, got the pics to prove we were there and headed back home to a forecast of, yes, snow.
Dave unloaded the trunk of the car, I greeted the cats and headed to the fridge to check on that glob of sourdough. I pulled it out onto the cutting board and formed it into a ball to let it rise over-night. This morning I saw that it had doubled in size, so I put it in a loaf pan and baked it.
Per usual, I cut into while it was warm, so I could have the heel for myself, slathered in butter and honey. There is nothing like that first bite. The crunch of the fresh out of the oven crust and the soft pillowy inside with the melted butter and crystalized honey melting together. Standing at the kitchen window, watching the snow fall, I am rejuvenated and happy to be home. Time to tackle the laundry.
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