First snow

Finally, finally! Snow! 

The kids were mostly in bed last night at 9:42 pm when I noticed, big, fat flakes falling outside the kitchen door. “Alexa, announce: it’s snowing!”

Sean and GiGi ran outside to dance in the snow as it fell gently all around. Samson, ever the Pyrenees, stood happily in the yard, soaking it in. This morning, it’s beautiful. It’s not a heavy blanket, at all, but looking out the windows and catching each branch highlighted by an inch of the white powder is simply breathtaking.

The old tree fort, as you can see, continues to stand, all jabberwocky in the holler. We might have to finally take it down before we put the Treehouse on the market.

Yes, I said, “Put the Treehouse on the market.” Times have changed, as we knew they would, and we’re looking forward to the future. The kids are growing up. Sam is fast outgrowing his bedroom. Seamus is rapidly approaching 18. Sean has 2.5 years of high school left, then he will certainly be excited to start college, out in the world as his own man. Tim and I will be left with one bird in the nest, and she will be firmly in middle school at that time. What will we need this huge house for?

So, the next chapter awaits. We will need to spiff up the place for market. Fix all the little things we have let slide–things like the tree fort in the backyard, mismatched curtain rods, and the like. We never got around to painting, so probably a fresh coat of paint for the whole place is in order. New carpet for upstairs. A wax job for all the hardwood. That’s a thing, right? So many things to do, to get ready.

It’s exciting to think about the changes of the future, and somehow comforting, and energizing. It’s hope, that little voice that says, “Aw, now for something better–a new adventure.”

We’ll always treasure our years here in the Treehouse. It remains the best house ever, full of love, surrounded by wildlife, protected by towering poplars and other hardwoods. The birds outside are flitting in the snow, dancing on and off the bird feeder, and I hope that wherever we end up moving, we’ll still have a good spot for birdwatching. I know no place will ever be the same as this magical spot in the woods.