Going Home

I like to read the advice columns from “Dear Prudie.” Not only does she offer interesting advice, it reminds me of how crazy and dramatic free my life is. Around the holidays is an especially interesting time to read the advice columns, because people’s families are insane. People having knock out fights over who cooks dinner and who’s invited. Lucky for me, my family gets along just fine.

In what appears to be the complete opposite of many people’s family gatherings, going home for Christmas is the most relaxing time I have all year. I have nothing I have to do and my cell phone doesn’t even work out there. Heck, even showering is optional. The most strenuous part of my day tends to be me duking it out with my piano. Since I only get to play once a year for a week, the first half of the week is a little rough while I try and force my fingers to move as fast as they did in high school.

I thought it would be weird to go home as an adult, but it’s not. It’s nice to be able to enjoy a bottle of wine with the family while we hang out in the kitchen getting dinner ready. My parents no longer yell at me to get my butt out of bed in the morning. Although since I no longer sleep until noon, that could be part of the reason. They don’t ask me to do much, especially since I willingly clean the kitchen all day long. And this year I even got a covered parking spot in the barn!

Best of all, I no longer have to fight with my brother over what to have for breakfast. This year, out of delight to have both children home (I’m assuming), my mom made both French toast and pancakes! I’m the French toast person, my brother is the pancakes. She did grumble a bit about the fact that we both still snitch bacon while she was cooking it though.

It’s amazing to go for a walk and not see a single other person or car. Just the occasional horse, cow, turkey, or deer. With the mountains rising majestically around our little valley and the sun shining, that stroll down LBC is one of my favorites in the world. So much a favorite, that I even did it when it was below zero this year (F).

Every time I have to leave it makes me sad. I didn’t even like saying goodbye to the dog this time. When I was in college and it was time to leave, my dad would start my car for me and leave money on the dash. This time he packed me an amazing lunch so I didn’t have to eat gas station food.

It’s nice to have a home that is a refuge instead of a battlefield like all those people that write in to Dear Prudie. I wish it were closer so I could relax more often in the comforts of my parents’ home. But knowing that come the end of December I’ll be admiring the mountains and trees with the wildlife meandering their way through the backyard while sitting next to a roaring fire makes the rest of the year a little easier.