and may all your christmases be white

I'm sure it's no surprise that we in the southeast are getting snowed on. I'm currently wrapped in a yummy blanket, watching the snow fall in my in-laws' backyard. If there was ever a scene that demands PJs, whispery movies, intermittent naps and a good book, this is it. My dad sent me a picture of our backyard, which is much more snowy than the one I'm looking at, which means our Christmas with them may be delayed. That backyard, when it's snowy, is one of the most beautiful scenes saved in my memory of home. And I'm a little heartbroken that I can't see it.

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Fast forward to Monday, because I was interrupted by a lovely day-after-Christmas breakfast with the Castrodale family, which turned into a lazy (read: relaxing) day, full of good conversation and a late lunch at the local Mexican restaurant. The roads cleared up in time for us to hit the road this morning and now here I sit, watching my dad cook dinner. Clam chowder, flounder, crab cakes and cold slaw (cole slaw?). Is it good to be home? Most definitely.

Soon, we'll get re-settled in Charleston and I'll tell you all about our travels. About how beautiful and magical New York was and how precious the time with family was. I know you can't wait.

Merry Christmas, to you and yours.