Adventures Part 2: on to Utah

(This is part 2 of a very long series of posts. Part 1. Part 0.)

We crossed the mountain pass that divides Western and Eastern Washington and entered a different world. Western Washington is wet and green, and you sometimes get the feeling that the vine maples and other creeping greenery are engaged in a guerilla war to wipe out all signs of civilization. Eastern Washington is made of open sky and rolling hills, and sunshine—a nice escape from the constant drizzle (Washingtonians have as many names for rain as Eskimos have for snow. {OK, as a linguist, I know that the Eskimo-names for snow thing isn’t entirely accurate, but the point remains!}) The freeway through Oregon includes the Blue Mountains, which curve and descend at a terrifying rate, (unless you choose to sleep through that part of the trip while your brother drives. Wise). The freeway also has my favorite rest stop of all time—it’s named Deadman’s Pass. Encouraging, né? Idaho was beautiful—a perfect sunset over the Snake River gave the whole state a golden glow. (I have to say, ANY sunshine at this point of the trip was appreciated.)

We took a little detour through some unexpected parts of Idaho (which are not so charming in the middle of the night. Not uncharming, either. Just dark.) and explored a new route to Utah. Once there, we found more grandparents, more cousins, more aunts and uncles—more romping, more love. And although I could say a lot about Utah (sleepovers, more snow—was it following us?, adored baby cousins, homemade bread in batches of 16 loaves, a phenomenal geode hunt, Sarai getting a book signed by her hero, cinnamon bears, endless good times) the crucial thing was the sense of family and the feeling of belonging. We don’t attend family reunions often, and our kids really miss out on having cousins around, but they have two sets of grandparents and endless aunts and uncles who have made a place in their hearts that my children call home.

And from there . . .