By EPIC, I mean EXHAUSTED

Neverending story... Scariest movie EVER. Hello? Who makes a children’s movie where a beautiful white horse dies in quick sand? And while we are on the subject, who makes a children’s movie where the dog dies? Seriously.

I hopped in the car tonight to head home after an evening with Amy (after an entire day with Amy – more on that later) and a set of the Beach Boys came on the radio. I was already homesick (x2 weeks) and this weekend did me in. There are times when it is important to be with your family and that time is now. I am learning the drawback of living on the other coast. How do you hug the people you love when they live 2800 miles away? How will they know how much you love them when you can’t hug them?

It has been a year since I departed Philadelphia. Two cats and a dog with everything else packed in around them (wrap your head around that one for a second). It was an EPIC road trip complete with a reenacted western gun fight – fun for the whole family!

It has been an EPIC year – my favorite new life theme. However, I am EPIC-ly tired now! Particularly after 50 mile bike ride with “climbs” (DEATH HILLS).

--- More to come ---

But to tide you over… picture of Amy and I – apparently she’s now orange and my head has been elongated. Bert and Earnie anyone? Just the look two single ladies are going for. Sigh. Hopeless.




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My parents were with the Kane Kelly’s tonight. Family friends, really just family (at some point don’t you just drop the friend part and call them family?) to include Sev, one of my two oldest friends. Our parents each imparted upon us several gems of wisdom. One of Tom’s [MANY] contributions, the Beach Boys, their music weaved through my childhood memories.

Our lives punctuated with sadness at the moment, with homesickness swirling around in my head, the Beach Boys brought me comfort. It reminded me of our family vacation to the lake, when I lost my grandfather, when the very same people buffered us from our sadness with much needed (family) love. Tom laughing below, playing the Beach Boys, with the pitter patter of rain on the leaves in between songs. The soundtrack to my grieving, as tears rolled down my face. Tonight, the same music, the wind gently rustling the trees and the knowledge that my family enjoyed Tom’s laughter this evening, was comforting.