So, here we are, the snow-slush is pounding against the windows, and two of our beloved children are camping at higher elevations with their…beloved and hopefully beloved. We are warm and snug here in our home wishing the best for all of them.
Earlier today we drove up to where they were/are camping, curious to what the weather was like (snowing! snowing!). We went beyond their campsite, up further into the hills and hiked. Caught some bizarre little leechiginous life forms that clung to Darwin and me, a big stumpy thing that dad (had to) haul back, and a couple of branches with promise as curtain rods.
Purely out of curiosity we drove through the campground, they weren’t there. Continued down the road and (voila!) passed all of the expected cars in convoy with a wave from Lana. If she was another ilk, it might’ve been a finger. Were we intruding? Questionably. But we were…hiking! And it was windy where we lived, and only snowing like a banshee where they were. Choices, choices. But we didn’t do the creepy parent thing and turn around. No, we went home and talked, and walked, and cooked and wondered if we would have a convoy of cold, wet Marines and their girlfriends come calling, looking for shelter and hot apple pie.
So far, no go, so we hope they are all bonding in a cocoon of youth, warmth, and adventure.