There’s something lovely about returning to a holiday destination. Feeling the anticipation rise as the weekend at ‘the farm’ approaches, hearing us exhale as we descend the driveway towards our cabin, knowing how quickly we’ll start thinking we never want to leave. Being able to reminisce about previous visits while creating new memories.
Remembering that we first visited many moons ago for the wedding of dear friends, not knowing that we’d one day return for holidays with our own brood.
Recalling the dark and cosy bedroom where I fed baby Nicholas and we both had a rare nap for three hours in the middle of the day, when he was five months old and I was still adjusting to having three children under five.
Observing that Charlie has absolutely no interest in feeding the farm animals, so nothing much has changed from previous visits in that respect. Noting that Nicholas has developed his eldest brother’s affinity with animals, completely comfortable in their presence.
Remembering crazy early morning, sleepy feeds on the couch with baby Nicholas, and then watching the sun rise over the dewy grass with Sam, my other early riser. Thankful that everyone tends to sleep until after the sun comes up these days.
Thinking about the sausages we cooked over the open fire last year, and how we turned off all the lights to watch the stars, just the five of us away from the real world. Delighting in the chaos and fun of shared meals with friends this year, watching my beloved in his element as he prepared delicious dinners.
Noting that Sam’s desire to start the campfire each afternoon has not waned since last year, and thankful that the chilly weather meant we could sit by the fire outside and have a fireplace to keep us toasty indoors too. Glad we remembered the marshmallows to toast this year.
Observing how much drawing and writing played a part in this year’s escape, how much Sam has honed these skills over the past year, and loving the notes he wrote for the ‘farm people’ and his friends. Wondering if next year he’ll be curled up in a corner reading a novel, as I hope to be.
Loving the competitive spirit shown in the daddies and sons soccer match, giggling at Sam’s determination to have a swim and never making it in the freezing water past his big toe, and recalling that this time last year, there was little physical activity on our escape as we were still undergoing investigations over his mysterious sore knee.
Again, feeling blessed for having a few sacred days away from the world with my loves. Knowing how much has changed in a year and how much stays the same. Being able to stop, breathe, observe and remember.