Enjoying the Journey

Since I was a boy, growing up in the mountains of West Virginia, I have always loved the snow.  There is something almost magical, intensely beautiful, about snow.  This morning I am sitting in our dining room looking out on a fresh blanket of white.  Large snowflakes are still falling. For folks in certain parts of the country perhaps it has grown a little wearisome by this time of winter.  Weather stations are issuing constant alerts for winter storms.  The alerts seem to either bring groans or that giddy, child-like feeling.  It is true that “snow days” mean more to school children than to the rest of us, but I must confess that the little boy in me still gets…

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I know, I know – I sound like an old man.  Suddenly all of the things I heard the “old people” say years ago are making so much sense! Last week Morgan (our oldest) was going through some old pictures.  Really old pictures.  Back before iPods, iPhones, and digital photography.  Back in the “old days” when we took rolls to Wal-Mart and had them developed.  Back when pictures ended up in books and boxes, not in online folders. She found a picture of the first snow man that we built together.  There we are in the back yard of our first house with a fine specimen of Frosty.  Good memories. Today, like most of the southern states, we were blasted with…

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