Niagara Falls

Since January, I had cherished hopes of making it to Argyle in order to catch our nieces and nephews in their epic dance recital. And when one is heading upstate, why not throw in a trip to Niagara Falls? IT'S PRACTICALLY ON THE WAY.

Left arrow: Niagara Falls. Right arrow: Dance recital. 

Upstate is upstate, right? What's an extra 500 miles between friends? Throw in the fact that J had a conference for work the same weekend back in Princeton, and it all made sense in a special kind of way!

Everyone stop and take a deep breath and think about what it must be like to live with me. Say a prayer for J while you're at it.

The plans came together and we set off for Niagara Falls in the wee morning hours of a Thursday. We stopped for lunch of some amazing (seriously) meatloaf in the grocery-store deli of a tiny town that was nearly-there. Such are the random serendipitous moments of these drives.

The closer we got, the more excited I was. I mean, I was really looking forward to this. I was convinced that Niagara Falls was something that would not disappoint, although I didn't have much evidence to go on. I was deeply hopeful that it would be like the Grand Canyon in that it would be even grander than what could be pictured or imagined: that it would demand to be experienced.

Horseshoe Falls

And, wow.

Nutmeg was afraid at first. The noise of mighty rushing waters is not to be trifled with.

foreground: American Falls

Rainbow!

The mist from Horseshoe Falls. We could see this from miles away as we drove in, like smoke from a wildfire.

We spent almost 24 hours at Niagara Falls, and that was about right. I booked us a hotel on the Canadian side with views of the falls. We could hear the roar of the water while in our room.

Breakfast in the hotel

The timing was perfect; in mid-May, things had just reopened after the winter (!) so we weren't in full tourism season yet. There were no crowds, and hotels and such were less expensive.
We hit an uncommonly warm day, though, which meant the Maid of the Mist was a delight.

The Maid is a boat that goes up-close-and-personal to the bottom of the falls. In misty Horseshoe Falls, we got soaked. 

I maybe thought about the wedding in The Office.

We hiked around to the different islands and got up-close looks. Nutmeg picked me about a zillion dandelions. 

It was fun to get to use our passports and overnight in Canada. As Nutmeg commented re: border control, "That girl was NICE to me!"

Bud's "You think?!?" to the "Climbing is Dangerous" sign above the falls

Kid photographer! OK, it was  a little romantic.

Niagara Falls did not disappoint. It was a whirlwind-yet-restorative family vacation, and I am deeply grateful to have been able to go. And truly thankful and amazed that it exceeded my expectations (unlike our trip to the Grand Canyon) and was in no way disappointing. There is something exhilarating in in hoping big and then seeing it come to pass. I am so so grateful!

Our crew of Road Ninjas at the Falls

Mail Call

I explain the duct tape later

I can't believe two weeks have gone by so quickly! They have been filled with joy. And filled. I hope to get to them soon.

But for now, in this little window I have before supper, I just wanted to note how wonderful it has been to get mail from many of y'all.

Real, hold-in-your hands mail. Snail Mail. Thrill.

So true.

Showing up like a surprise gift in our mailbox. And sometimes, actual surprise gifts. 

For one thing, we get mail a little more often than we do at home (because we are away from all those people we see in person). And given that there are six of us and my kids do some writing, there is always cause for hope that there may be mail. Which means the checking of the mailbox is a daily Event. One of our family liturgies of this year.

For another thing, we have our own individual mailbox across the country highway from our house, instead of the block of neighborhood mailboxes we have at home. This means that if we have mail going out, I get to put up a little red flag like I did growing up. And I then know when the mail has come because the little red flag is down. There is one location inside our house where I can check this status without going outside.

From our bedroom window

Which is important, because when it is seven degrees outside one doesn't want to get all booted up and find the outgoing Netflix DVD still waiting to be picked up.

The mailbox has served us well, although it took some hits for the team this winter. Twice it suffered dislocation by the force of heavy snow being thrown up by the plow.

Another time it landed about eight feet away from the post. 

Finally, J stopped repairing it and just duct-taped it onto the post for the rest of the season, which included incidents like this:

That snow is frozen solid, folks.

And now, Nutmeg has found herself a faithful penpal in a cousin down in Marietta. Neither of them can quite read yet, but they both can make letters and/or draw pictures. And so the correspondence has been flying back and forth. SO MUCH FUN.

She started out copying letters; she now often asks me to "tell me them out loud."

Anyway, as I contemplate going home and losing this: my little red flag and peeping out my bedroom window and waiting until slow-traffic times to cross our highway-- I am immensely grateful for those of you who have put a stamp or seven onto something and sent it our way. Please know that along with your post, several grins and some dancing were delivered. Thank you.



**UPDATE-- As of Saturday 5.23, there is no longer duct tape on our mailbox. 

Eight More Weeks--

Tuesday marked eight weeks from the day we plan to wrap up our time in New Jersey. For some reason, with the arrival of May came not only "May flowers," but a sense of "it's almost time to go." I wonder whether the Canadian Geese whose migration we witness experience the same sort of sensation.

Driving

If things go according to our current plan, this time eight weeks from now we will be on the road again. It is difficult to describe the complexity of emotions I experience as I ponder this. This week, I have been revisiting a song that has cycled in and out of my regular playlist over the past couple of years: "The Littlest Birds" by the Be Good Tanyas.

Well, I feel like an old hobo
I'm sad lonesome and blue
I was fair as a summer day
Now the summer days are through

You pass through places
And places pass through you
But you carry 'em with you
On the soles of your travellin' shoes

The contrast between the cheerful music and sad words reflects something of how I feel now that May has arrived. The music always makes me want to dance. 

And summer days are not through! They are marching closer every day. Nearly every day we have some new delight pop up. Because we have never been here in spring, I had no idea what hidden gems were waiting in the yard for us. Now, the kids can recite flowers in order of appearance, one wave coming after another:

snowdrops
daffodils
hyacinth
forsythia
tulips

And then, when I thought we were wrapping up, a dogwood exploded in bloom.



A few days later we found a blooming lilac bush back by the sledding hill.

lilacs on Sunday, our first summery day

This morning, without warning, both fuchsia and white azaleas! WHO KNOWS WHAT DELIGHTS ARE COMING is kind of the mentality of right now around here. Sooner or later, I know, things will settle into nice steady summer.

And then we will pull up stakes and head back to the land where summer is pretty perennial. It seems a little bit like the final curtain is about to drop on a fierce dramatic performance; and we're shifting in our chairs, getting ready to go back blinking into everyday life.

Pixie's first time driving the riding mower

Bud

I have started thinking about our return route home. The northern route? The southern? Checking locations for our favorite hotels, and seeing which little trips and sightseeing we can squeeze in along the way.

However, even as we start to plan the return and my mind fills up with images of Louisiana (or wherever), we are still very much here. Our kids met some kids at a park last week and then their whole family turned up at our church's family fun day on Saturday. Yesterday they all came over for a playdate. New friends, with eight weeks to go. Because we are not done here yet.

Family Fun Day at BRC Highlights

In the months leading up to our move out here, I started a google doc with a list of good things to anticipate here; it helped me look for the possibility of good in Princeton. Some of the things on the list were lightning bugs and thunder.

Looking back at it now, that list is pretty sparse; from my present vantage point, I am astonished by all of the things I had to look forward to that I didn't know about yet.

It's a little bit like our yard this spring, and all of the marvelous beauty that I didn't know was waiting. God has been very tender with me this year. There has been so much I didn't know was in store. I hope I have a chance to share more about it.

Our year has passed through us even as we have passed through it, and we've all grown (especially the children!). We will carry it with us on the soles of our travellin' shoes, yes, but in other ways and places, as well.

The song continues in this way, which is a fitting end to what I have to say for tonight:

Well, I love you so dearly, I love you so clearly
I wake you up in the mornin' so early
Just to tell you I got the wanderin' blues
I got the wanderin' blues

And I'm gonna quit these ramblin' ways
One of these days
Soon