Simple Visits

As much as I am a suburban girl through and through, there is something about visiting my dear husband's oh-so-rural hometown that rejuvenates me.  A weekend at Grammie's house (as my kids would say) just fills me up in all of the right ways.

It might Grammie herself and her unfailing ability to make us feel like there is nothing else on earth she'd rather be doing than enjoying our company at her quiet, lovely home nestled on a hill overlooking a couple of ponds.   It might be the amazing breakfasts that Grandaddy prepares every single morning.  It might be the serenity of being miles from anyone (except maybe a few wild animals of which I'm frightened in an oh-so-suburban way).  It might be the fact that there is love every single place you go in that small town, whether it's the grocery store, or the grandparents' house, or church on Sunday morning.  It feels as if the whole place is bursting at the seams...with pure love and care.  And I am so blessed for such a wonderful little town to have found a way into my life.

I remember visiting for the first time my freshman year of college, nine years ago.  I drove there with my would-be husband for his cousin's wedding, then spent the night at a mutual friend's house who lived down the hall from me in my dorm and across the same small town as my future husband.  (Small world, I tell you.)  From the moment I arrived, I just knew.  I was home.  I wasn't even dating my husband at the time (well, he says that was our first date....), but I just felt like I had arrived somewhere that I belonged.  It was the same feeling I got when I visited my now-alma mater.  God spoke to me.  And I heard.  Loud and clear.

And now, this sleepy little town is my home away from home.  My respite.

And it's where we spent our last weekend, relishing in the joys of family - mostly outside at the cookout house, enjoying the beautiful fall weather.  (I have been waiting all year for this cool, crisp air.)

Where Grammie provides endless snacks for perpetually hungry youngin's

Where youngin's peep over the wall of the cookout house wishing they could get down to that pond...somehow... 

.

Maybe on the tippy-toes?  (Where pants are optional because comfort comes first...)

 Where the cookout house has become a racetrack for princesses on Big Wheels

And gorgeous cousins cooperate for group pictures

Where birthday girls spin in endless pirouettes while younger cousins climb into buckets in the background

Where there's always a party, even if it's just the immediate family

And where your niece watches on as your sixteen-month old tackles a giant sun-shaped balloon

Visits to Grammie's - I think the whole family would be with me on this one - this is our simple pleasure.

(Even if the whole place does a sigh of relief when my rowdy party of five heads home.)

We love you, Grammie!  (And Grandaddy too.)

Linking up with Dayle today at...