After climbing Hawksbill in the morning, the afternoon was reserved for Stony Man Mountain – the second highest peak in the park. This was a repeat hike for us; we’d brought my parents up here over Thanksgiving weekend in 2017 (or 2018? I think it was 2017) – so we knew this would be an approachable one. The last time we’d climbed Stony Man, both kids were in backpacks and Steve was under the weather. Both feeling good, and with all family feet on the trail, we were ready to go.
Stony Man trailhead. Hello, old friend!
The Stony Man trail is one of the softest, most groomed trails in a park full of soft, groomed trails. After our summer of Adirondack hiking, it felt like the absolute lap of luxury.
Approaching the summit… that was fast!
And views – check! It was almost as grey and misty as the morning on Hawksbill, but still so beautiful. Shenandoah is my home park, and I love every inch of it, in all of its moods.
Next week: one final hike to cap off the weekend, and it’s a good one – redemption time.
It has been too long since my last visit to Barsetshire – either Anthony Trollope’s version or Angela Thirkell’s, for that matter. Time to check in with the Grantlys, Proudies, Arabins, and Thornes – and to meet some new friends: Lady Lufton of Framley Court, her slightly wayward son Lord Lufton, and the Vicar of Framley, Mark Robarts and his family.
Framley Parsonage opens with a description of Mark’s history and his rise to his own parsonage – thanks to his college friendship with Lord Lufton, and Lady Lufton’s patronage, at a young age. At first, I was a little concerned that Lady Lufton might be a Victorian version of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but I needn’t have worried. Mark Robarts is no Mr Collins, and Lady Lufton – while she is certainly a bit bossy – has everyone’s best interests at heart. Of course, this is Trollope.
After Mark befriended her son, Lady Lufton took him warmly to her heart, installed him with a living at Framley Parsonage, and provided him with a wife – her daughter’s good friend Fanny. Having had a home and family heaped upon him before he was old enough to fully appreciate his good fortune, Mark convinces himself that he needs to continue climbing the ladder and meet more and more illustrious characters. In so doing, he falls in with a group of county luminaries of whom Lady Lufton heartily disapproves – the “immoral” Duke of Omnium, hard-charging government minister Harold Smith, and county MP Nathaniel Sowerby. Sowerby is a reckless spendthrift who has already convinced Lord Lufton to co-sign some bills for him, costing Lady Lufton some 5,000 pounds – and now he charms Mark into putting his name to two bills totaling 900 pounds, Mark’s entire annual income. Mark’s struggles to come to terms with this moment of foolishness make up the main plot of the book.
Mark Robarts’ mistake had been mainly this, – he had thought to touch pitch and not to be defiled. He, looking out from his pleasant parsonage into the pleasant upper ranks of the world around him, had seen that men and things in those quarters were very engaging. His own parsonage, with his sweet wife, were exceedingly dear to him, and Lady Lufton’s affectionate friendship had its value; but were not these things rather dull for one who had lived in the best sets at Harrow and Oxford; – unless, indeed, he could supplement them with some occasional bursts of more lively life?
Mark may be the main character – the flawed hero of the book, perhaps – but as is often the case with Trollope, the female characters are made of stronger fibers and possessed of more vibrant spirits, and they are by far the best part of the book.
First and foremost, there is Lucy Robarts. The Vicar’s younger sister, she comes to live at Framley Parsonage after her father’s death. Although at first a shy and “insignificant” (Lady Lufton’s word) presence, there is something about her – and young Lord Lufton is smitten. They become friends and, soon, they’re in love. But Lady Lufton disapproves of Lucy as a match for her son, and she sets Fanny Robarts, the Vicar’s wife, the task of putting Lucy on her guard. Lucy’s efforts to avoid Lord Lufton – a painful sacrifice on her part, because she is already in love – are poignant. But this is Trollope, so you can be sure the force of her character will win the day.
She’s helped along the way by her sister-in-law, Fanny Robarts. And while Lucy is the romantic heroine, I loved Fanny even more. Fanny feels the same affection and debt of gratitude to Lady Lufton that her husband does – she comes from a middle-class background, raised up to socializing with the squire’s family due to her school friendship with Lady Justinia Meredith, Lord Lufton’s sister. Lady Lufton embraces her daughter’s friend and installs her comfortably in the parsonage with Mark – who Fanny truly loves. Fanny believes that she owes her sunny, comfortable life to Lady Lufton’s kindhearted interference, but the fact of the matter is that she is ideally suited to be a Vicar’s wife. Both gentle at heart and strong at core, Fanny will do anything for Mark and Lucy. Although loving Lady Lufton dearly (and naturally conflict-avoidant) Fanny is willing to go to bat for her husband and sister-in-law, even though intimidated, at various points in the book – and Lady Lufton loves and respects her more for it.
‘I do not at all impute any blame to Miss Robarts for what has occurred since,’ continued her ladyship. ‘I wish you distinctly to understand that.’
‘I do not see how any one could blame her. She has behaved so nobly.’
‘It is of no use inquiring whether any one can. It is sufficient that I do not.’
‘But I think that is hardly sufficient,’ said Mrs Robarts, pertinaciously.
‘Is it not?’ asked her ladyship, raising her eyebrows.
‘No. Only think what Lucy has done and is doing. If she had chosen to say that she would accept your son I really do not know how you could have justly blamed her. I do not by any means say that I would have advised such a thing.’
‘I am glad of that, Fanny.’
‘I have not given any advice; nor is it needed. I know no one more able than Lucy to see clearly, by her own judgment, what course she ought to pursue. I should be afraid to advise one whose mind is so strong, and who, of her own nature, is so self-denying as she is. She is sacrificing herself now, because she will not be the means of bringing trouble and dissension between you and your son. If you ask me, Lady Lufton, I think you owe her a deep debt of gratitude. I do indeed. And as for blaming her – what has she done that you could possibly blame?’
Really! Despite loving her patroness dearly, and feeling more than a little intimidated – Fanny Robarts will beard the lion in its den for the sake of the people she loves, and that is hardcore. Indeed, there is no one like Trollope for sparking dialogue and strong female characters – except for Jane Austen. Mark Robarts’ story is engaging (and you do root for him to work his way through the tangled mess his social climbing creates) but as always with Trollope, it’s the women who steal the show, from the briefer appearances of the tough-as-nails Mrs Grantly and the fabulous Miss Dunstable (I adore Miss Dunstable!) to a worthy heroine, Lucy, and the absolutely wonderful Fanny.
It’s Monday again. And December – shut the front door. I feel it, too. After months of being on the go almost constantly (or it felt that way, anyhow) I feel like I’m limping to the finish line right now, which isn’t the best recipe for Christmas spirit, but there it is. Last week was another running around kind of week – running all the way across the country, as it happens. Almost no sooner had we gotten home and unpacked from our Thanksgiving trip to Colorado, I had to pack up and head to the airport again, this time to go back to Seattle for work. I was gone from Tuesday through Friday and I had a wonderful time working and socializing with my team and other colleagues, but I was wiped out when I got home on Friday evening. I tried not to over-program us for Saturday and Sunday, but ended up running around anyway. On Saturday, Steve and I had to attend an orientation for new divers – we’re working on getting our scuba certifications and have to knock out the e-learning and pool classes in time to do our certification dives in Costa Rica in February. I’m stoked, but it’s a lot to learn. I have fifteen hours of e-learning to do before I get in the pool next weekend, and I haven’t even started. Anyway – the rest of Saturday we intentionally kept very low-key, because in the afternoon the kids had their appointment for COVID-19 vax dose #2. They did amazingly well (TOUGH kids) and we picked up our Christmas tree on the way home, then spent the rest of the day relaxing.
On Sunday, we had a laid-back around-the-house day for everyone except Mom. After a middle-of-the-night visitor (Nugget, whose arm was hurting from the vaccine) I overslept and bolted out of bed eight minutes before my Girl Scout Cookie Manager training was scheduled to begin – oh, right, did I mention I got voluntold for that job? (I don’t mind at all – happy to help Peanut’s Brownie troop in any way I can – but I’m all tied in knots about not screwing it up.) Miraculously, I somehow made it to the training only three minutes late, and after ninety minutes of information overload, I tooled over to deliver cookie order forms to the troop leaders at the council’s Cookie Rally, which was going on at the same time. (Peanut didn’t attend – she was health-disqualified thanks to traveling less than ten days before.) I spent about a half hour chatting with the troop leaders at the Cookie Rally, then rushed home to dash around pulling out Christmas ornaments and baking lemon chiffon pie and cinnamon star bread (among other sundry things) for our evening Christmas tree decorating party. As usual, I was exhausted and out of sorts by the time the party rolled around, and I snapped at everyone except Peanut for not helping enough. Jingle, jingle. The couch felt good at the end of the night.
Reading. What with business travel and all the weekend activity, I didn’t do much reading last week. Over two flights (to and from Seattle) I did manage to finish Romola (for the Classics Club Challenge), so review of that coming at some point in the next several weeks. And then over the weekend I knocked out A Single Thread, which I had out from the library. Turning to Christmas reading this week, probably – I need to get a little bit more in the sparkle spirit.
Watching. One bonus to being out on the west coast this week was getting to watch Trevor Noah on regular TV! I never manage to stay up late enough for The Daily Show in regular life, but on Pacific time it’s on at a very reasonable 8:00 p.m. I watched several episodes last week, yay! Back home, we worked our way through a small backlog of The Great British Bake-Off (backlog from two weeks of travel) and The Great Festive Bake-Off.
Listening. I’ve been in a weird music mood lately. Spent my errands driving time singing loudly along to “The Joker” and “Escape: The Pina Colada Song” on repeat. Generation Z says that earth tones and macrame are in style again, so I took a trip in the music time machine too, apparently. Otherwise – I started a short Christmas audiobook, The Christmas Hirelings, by Mary Elizabeth Braddon. Richard Armitage reads it and I will literally listen to him read the phone book. Not sure about the story (yet), but – Richard Armitage, people.
Making.Ugh, I’m still stuffed after our tree-decorating party/feast. We had: a meat and cheese platter (Peanut ate ALL of the olives); pierogi; artichoke dip; cinnamon star pull-apart bread; and lemon chiffon pie. Oof. Otherwise – I made lots of work product, and packets of Girl Scout cookie order forms to distribute to Peanut’s Brownie troop. Never let ’em see you sweat.
Moving. Well, I had a good hard workout in my hotel gym one morning out in Seattle, which felt good. Other than that – a couple of runs and a lot of walking, the usual.
Blogging. Review of Framley Parsonage coming atcha on Wednesday, and back to the travel recaps with another Shenandoah post on Friday. Check in with me then!
Loving. YAY, SCIENCE! I’m so excited that both of the anklebiters have their second vaccine dose done and dusted. (And Steve and I will be getting our boosters this week – yippee!) Can’t wait for that full immunity to kick in for the kids. We’ve tried to live our lives with good risk management for months now, but this will really help. I know Peanut in particular is excited to go to the theatre again. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to the scientific community for creating this vaccine in record time, and for the sage advice of my wise and compassionate pediatrician as I talked the kids’ vaccines through with her.
Hawksbill Mountain is Shenandoah’s highest point, but not its most difficult hike. We planned to combine it with a few other hikes for an active but doable-for-kids day. The morning dawned cloudy and misty, so the views from the summit weren’t going to be the best ever, but we figured it would still be beautiful (spoiler: it was). Off we go through the woods…
The kids were hoping for more scrambles (like on the accidental portion of our Bearfence hike) but Steve and I were on our game this time. Scramble up this tiny rock, kids.
After what felt like a very short walk, we were approaching the summit of Hawksbill! That went fast.
Let’s go get that summit, team!
Arrived at the top of Shenandoah – views for days, even with the cloud cover and mist.
I’d love to come up here on a sunny, clear day to see how the view changes – but this misty, magical morning at the highest point in Shenandoah was plenty beautiful.
Next week: from the highest summit in Shenandoah to… the second highest summit in Shenandoah.
Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby. I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book. Here are my reads for November, 2021.
Paper Girls Vol. 1, by Brian K. Vaughn – The first volume of this new-to-me comic by Brian K. Vaughn (of Saga fame) opens early in the morning on the day after Halloween, in 1988 – so, naturally, I was saving it to read on November 1st. There are aliens, time travel, and a kick@$$ paper-delivery girl gang – good stuff all around. I can’t wait to read the next volume.
Murder by Matchlight, by E.C.R. Lorac – It’s a dark night during the Blitz. Bruce Mallaig, disappointed by his fiancee’s inability to meet him for dinner, strolls through Regents Park in the dark and witnesses the moment before a murder. Chief Inspector Macdonald doesn’t have much to go on – the briefest flare of light during the striking of a match, and an unidentified corpse – but it’s enough. This was my first E.C.R. Lorac (I’d read Crossed Skis, by the same author but written under a different pseudonym, and loved it) and it was a delight. I’ll definitely be working my way through all of the Loracs that the BL Crime Classics imprint has brought out – quite a few of which are already on my shelves, waiting.
Slightly Foxed No. 71: Jocelin’s Folly (Autumn 2021), ed. Gail Pirkis and Hazel Wood – A new issue of Slightly Foxed is always a treat, and this one was no different. Rachel Kelly’s beautiful essay about working through grief and depression with the help of poetry was by far the best item in the journal this season, but I also loved Clarissa Burden on Josephine Tey’s Inspector Alan Grant – really, it was all wonderful, as always.
Meet Mr Mulliner, by P.G. Wodehouse – I listened to this standalone collection of linked short stories over Audible, and it was a delight from the first word to the last. I’m not sure I’ve ever departed from Wodehouse’s two famous series – the Jeeves books and the Blandings Castle series – and it was such fun. I particularly enjoyed the two stories featuring Augustine Mulliner, but they were all great. If my family was as fascinating as Mr Mulliner’s family, you can bet I’d take up residence in a pub and spin tales about them too.
Blitz Writing, by Inez Holden – This volume collects two different works: a novella (Night Shift) and a memoir (It Was Different at the Time) by Inez Holden. The gorgeous writing reminded me a bit of Virginia Woolf, although it feels like a disservice to Holden to compare her to anyone (even the greats). The vivid description of a night of bombardment, toward the end of Night Shift, was particularly breathtaking.
The Sittaford Mystery, by Agatha Christie – Another Audible listen, and another standalone from an author better known for series – on a snowy December night, a group of acquaintances gathers around a table for a seance. The table reports that another of their acquaintances, Captain Trevelyan, is dead – murdered. Captain Narracott, tasked with ferreting out the criminal, promptly arrests the dead man’s eldest nephew, James Pearson – but Jim’s intrepid fiancee, Emily Trefusis, is convinced that Jim had nothing to do with the crime and is determined to catch the real killer and clear her beloved’s name. It took me a bit to get into this one – unusual for Christie. Everyone involved seemed completely inept and idiotic, Inspector Narracott most of all. It wasn’t until Emily appeared that things got good. (Her first appearance on the page takes place when she walks in on Jim’s arrest. He wails that he didn’t kill his uncle. “Of course you didn’t, darling,” Emily reassures him. “You haven’t got the guts.” And then I thought – thank goodness! Finally, someone with some sense.) Emily is a fabulous character and I only wish that Christie had written more mysteries featuring her as the sleuth.
Framley Parsonage (Chronicles of Barsetshire #4), by Anthony Trollope – I won’t say much here, because I’m going to write up a full review for The Classics Club, but – of course – I loved this installment in the Chronicles of Barsetshire. There’s so much going on – the novel mainly revolves around the social-climbing Vicar of Framley and the distressing scrape he finds himself in, but there’s a major side plot involving a love story between the Vicar’s sister Lucy and the young squire, which is a delight to watch unfold. And our friends Dr Thorne, Frank and Mary Gresham, and the fabulous Miss Dunstable all pop in for a hello, too. Framley Parsonage isn’t my favorite Barset novel so far (Dr Thorne still holds the top spot on the pedestal) but it was, of course, wonderful.
Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimoto – This poignant, heart-wrenching novella tells the story of Mikage and Yuichi, two lost souls trying to navigate loss and grief – both needing each other, but each unwilling to drag the other into their own despair. Both have lost their entire families and are alone in the world, but for one another; Mikage cooks her way out of grief and into an understanding of her deeper feelings for Yuichi. The translation from the original Japanese text is gorgeous, and I wanted to gather them both up for hugs.
Not bad for a month that included a weeklong trip to Colorado (and no reading at all, other than on the plane). Everything I read this month was wonderful, lucky me – it’s almost impossible to pick a highlight. Still, if I have to (I know I don’t have to) Trollope always takes top spot anytime he appears in a monthly booklist. But there was also P.G. Wodehouse and Agatha Christie, so good company. And “Kitchen” was a marvelous, if devastating, read on which to end the month. For December, I have big holiday reading plans, as usual, and another trip – plenty of reading time in the car.
Happy Monday, friends! How were your Thanksgiving weekends? Ours took us clear across the country – on Thursday the 18th, we flew out to western Colorado to spend the holiday, and the week prior, with my brother and sister-in-law and their menagerie. We don’t see them nearly enough, and it was so good to have all of that focused time together. We stayed up past midnight, twice, drinking wine and talking about fun and serious stuff just as hard as we could. We ate incredible meals and tramped around western Colorado and the national parks near Moab, Utah, and it was perfect. (Lots of stories coming, but not until after I finish up Shenandoah and Seattle.) Flight logistics dictated that our family head home on Black Friday, so we reluctantly said goodbye to Dan, Danielle, Ollie and Marlin (the dogs) and Pancho (the cat). As sad as we were to leave, it was probably a good idea to give the kids the weekend to decompress and get back on Eastern time after all that exhausting fun; we made it a low-key weekend. Saturday was devoted entirely to bumming around the house, cleaning out and restocking the fridge, and getting ready for another busy week (including a business trip for me, it never rains but it pours). On Sunday, we made time for a little more fun – swim class, of course, and a very short hike on our favorite trail, just to get our hiking legs back after the flight. A little cooking and a cozy couch evening on the couch – perfect way to end a weekend and set myself up for a long week of work.
Reading. Some reading week – it was light, but all over the place. I had to set Framley Parsonage aside for a week, rather than carting a heavy doorstopping hardback to Colorado, so spent the flights over a different doorstopper instead – Romola, on my kindle. I’m about a third of the way through, thanks to plane reading, but set it aside to return to Framley when we got home. I finished Framley Parsonage on Saturday night, and spent Sunday over Banana Yoshimoto’s classic Kitchen. (Nice slim fast read – just what the doctor ordered.) I’m off on a business trip – more flights – so I’ll be charging up the kindle and returning to Romola with an eye to finishing it up this week.
Watching. Not much – I was too busy talking and catching up with Dan and Danielle all week. On Saturday, I did spend a few hours watching some of Miranda‘s Christmas videos on YouTube – trying to break through a post-travel grinchy mood and get in the holiday spirit. It’s starting to work, I think.
Listening. Mmmm, not much. I started In the Crypt with a Candlestick, a fun mystery by Daisy Waugh, on Audible – but I’m not into it yet. Other than that, just one episode of my favorite podcast, Shedunnit, on Josephine Tey. (So good.)
Making. It was actually a creative weekend, who’d’a thunk? In addition to a cleaned and restocked fridge (just in time for me to turn around and head back to the airport), I made: progress on Christmas knitting; gluten-free and almost-Paleo banana bread and mini muffins with sous chef Nugget; the beginnings of Christmas cards for mailing; more that I can’t think of right now because someone is whining in my ear.
Moving. It was a hiking week, for sure! Dan and Danielle showed us so many of their favorite spots – from a fun hike in Colorado National Monument, practically in their backyard, to iconic hikes in Arches and Canyonlands National Parks outside of Moab – and more. Plenty of stories and pictures coming soon; stay tuned.
Blogging. November’s reading roundup is coming for you on Wednesday, and on Friday – back to Shenandoah on a warm summer weekend. It’s cold here, so looking through my pictures from Labor Day is warming me right up.
Loving. A bittersweet one. I can’t tell you how much I loved spending the last week with Dan and Danielle. Steve and I love them both so much and we don’t see them nearly enough – and it had been way too long since the kids saw their uncle and aunt. It was an incredible week, full of beautiful vistas and the joy of being together, but that made it all the sadder to leave. I like to joke that I’m an emotionless stone, but there were some tears. Fortunately we’ll be seeing them again soon – and we all agreed that we need to make a point of getting together, whether on visits to each other’s homes or meeting up in some other location for a family getaway – at least once a year. If the pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that time together is precious and we will never let work schedules and everyday responsibilities (oh, and a pandemic) interfere with our family time for so long again.
Another old favorite – we almost never miss the Story of the Forest trail, no matter how quick the visit to Shenandoah. This time, we stopped by the Big Meadows visitor center so the kiddos could take their Junior Ranger oath of office, then immediately struck off for one of our favorite easy, kid-friendly hikes in the park.
The trail dips downhill a ways, then meanders over gently rolling hills – nothing difficult about it at all – for a little under two miles. It’s a lovely hike for kids, since there are plenty of natural elements to keep them engaged (including a Poohsticks bridge) and you can make it as long or as short as you like.
It’s a classic wooded trail; I think quite a few park visitors skip Story of the Forest because it doesn’t boast sweeping vistas (like Hawksbill) or strenuous scrambles (like Old Rag) or roaring waterfalls (like Dark Hollow) – just a peaceful path through a verdant forest. But there’s plenty to see if you drop your eyes to the forest floor itself – like bright green eruptions of ferns, my favorite.
And forest friends, like a sweet doe and her speckled fawns. All together now: awwwwww.
I just love their quiet grace.
Spotted just off the trail: an air quality monitoring station. Unbeknownst to many park visitors, Shenandoah struggles with air quality problems thanks to surrounding industry. Air quality monitoring stations in the park perform important work to ensure that our wild space stays healthy for us all.
Just a beautiful, peaceful walk in the woods – can’t top that.
Next week: we climb to the highest point in the park.
It’s no secret that I love a good World War II book – home front, travel, memoir, history, contemporaneous or historical fiction – I’ll take it all, and more, please. There’s a whole subset of World War II books set in London during the Blitz, of course, and it makes sense: when and where else was the indominable spirit of a nation more courageously on display? The material for writers is endless, and exemplified by Vere Hodgson’s diaries, in which she would downplay a night of heavy, horrific bombardment as “a little blitzy.” Here are three different examples.
First, the aforementioned Vere Hodgson, whose Blitz diary was published (and republished by Persephone Books) as Few Eggs and No Oranges. This is a doorstopper, but well worth the time. Hodgson records daily life in London, with all its challenges, from the early years through the end of the war. The office cat in the charity where she worked gets plenty of coverage, to bring some levity to the pages describing incendiary bombs and tragic destruction.
Handheld Classics brings us two Blitz books for the price of one – a novella, Night Shift, about factory workers in wartime London, and It Was Different At The Time, Holden’s Blitz memoir – combined into one volume, Blitz Writing. Holden’s very modern voice reminded me of Virginia Woolf a little bit, and the characters in both the novella and the memoir are so very lifelike. The description of a night’s bombing at the end of Night Shift is absolutely terrifying.
Finally, for something a little bit fun, E.C.R. Lorac brings us a mystery with a strong sense of time and place. Murder by Matchlight begins with a young man strolling through Regents Park on a deeply black night in London during the Blitz. All of the lights are out – it’s blackout, after all – and the only light is the momentary flare of a match. In that moment, a terrifying face looms up, and seconds later, a murder is committed. That is all Inspector Macdonald has to go on, and it’s not much. The mystery and characters are engaging, and there is a firefighting scene so vivid that you can hear the bombs whistling and feel the heat of the flames.
Of course, there’s more to World War II literature than the Blitz, and when I was considering the books I’ve read so far, most of them actually don’t focus on this particular horror. But there are quite a few Blitz books, for all that, and many of them are now classics for good reason.
Have you read any books set during the Blitz? Any recommendations for me?
As we’re coming up on another pandemic Thanksgiving, I’m feeling surprisingly full of gratitude. It has been a hard year – in the world, a raging pandemic and an unrelenting news cycle won’t exactly let us be. And personally, two deaths in the family (one somewhat expected but never really expected, and one completely out of the blue) have brought plenty of sadness. But there’s also plenty to be thankful for – including the fact that the kids are now half-vaxxed, none of my family members have been sick with COVID-19, still, and we will be together this holiday season. And there’s been a great deal of sweetness this year, and I finally feel that I am in the place I want to be. Geographically – home in my beloved Virginia for five years now, after three cold and lonely years in New York – and professionally.
Professionally has been the biggest change, for the better, for me this year. At the beginning of 2021, I thought I was in a decent place with my career. I liked my law firm colleagues, found the work interesting, and appreciated the flexibility that my job offered during the pandemic. If this was the end of the line for me, I felt pretty good about that. The only thing I didn’t like was dealing with strident personalities outside of my firm, but I figured that was a small-ish thing in the grand scheme of all that I liked about my job. Now on the other side, after changing courses to the career I’ve wanted for ten years, I realize how deeply, desperately unhappy I was in law firm life – I just didn’t know it at the time. I look back at pictures from last winter, deep in a stressful project, and I look haunted.
I can feel the contrast now. My new colleagues are just as nice as my old ones, and the work is just as interesting, but I am finally at peace. And I can see it in my own eyes.
Aside from the health of my immediate family members, this is what I am most grateful for this year – daily peace, finally.
There are smaller things, too. Travel, over the summer and fall – and coming up in the next few months. It’s good to go places again, to see new sights and feel different trails under my feet.
And I can’t forget the deep gratitude for the chance to spend every day with my best friend.
All things considered, 2021 has been okay. I have a lot to be thankful for, and that’s a nice place to be at Thanksgiving. I’ll keep hoping for better days ahead, for all of us – starting with an end to the pandemic. But in the meantime, I am grateful.
It would be hard for me to pick a favorite spot in Shenandoah National Park – I love every inch of the place. But if pressed, I might say that I love Big Meadows just a tiny bit more than the rest – maybe. (Then again, maybe not. It would be a wrench to have to choose; I’m glad I actually don’t.) I don’t think we ever come to Shenandoah without at least a quick pause at Big Meadows, and ideally, a nice leg-stretching hike.
Off we go!
I was thinking a lot of my grandmother, who had a great fondness for meadows. She would have so loved the expansive views and the lavish goldenrod flowers.
Bees buzzing everywhere! Go, little pollinators, go!
Don’t mind me, I’m just over here playing with my macro settings. #photographynerd
The sun was baking down and the meadow was blisteringly hot. (We were glad to have our hats and approximately a gallon each of sunscreen.)
Such a gorgeous afternoon hike – there’s no end to the little herd paths and spurs branching out every which way in Big Meadows, and there’s always more to see, whether you stretch up and gaze at the mountains off in the distance or crouch down to inspect a bee or a wildflower at close range. I just love it.
Next week: Another old favorite, and some new friends.
covered in flour 