Welcome to 2020. A land of new beginnings. New ways of life, new views, new experiences. New LEGO micro builds from Connor like this one that he gave me for Christmas. It is a micro build of the bus we are looking at.

A new Yoga with Adriene series called “Home”…which I started on the 3rd…only one day late this year. I’ve recruited my sisters to help hold me accountable. We’ll see how it works at a distance, over text messaging and videos. I am also trying to hold myself accountable by finally setting a schedule for myself. At least through January. Tea, journaling/writing/meditating, “HOME” video of whatever day is next. *bonus ~ I did Day 2 after I wrote this. I had to come back to say that Andy did it with me! I’ve been pestering him to join me for so long I almost didn’t believe it, even though I was next to him. It’s been two days and he’s still whining about how yoga isn’t supposed to make you sore. I told him it wasn’t the yoga that made him sore, it was the complete lack of use of his body BEFORE the yoga entered the picture!

A new home, as we close on the sale of the space that was our home for the last 15 years in another week or so, and go about finding the bus that wants to become part of our life. Andy says he is in charge of all things mechanical and I am in charge of everything design/aesthetics. I should have gotten it in a video so I have proof, ha!

I think I may need to start a Pinterest board.

A new family dynamic and traditions to go along with a life spent living the way you need to and also learning how to live in a very small space together. Two adults and a teenager (who happens to be the tallest one)…on a bus…I imagine difficult will be a slight understatement.

When I told my parents we weren’t going to be here next year for Christmas my dad looked out at the snow and said “I don’t blame you” and my mom said “Huh.” with that you-hurt-my-feelings-but-I’m-going-to-pretend-you-didn’t attitude she puts out when she is skeptical of your ability to make decisions.

Her response may have had something to do with Christmas 1987.

We stayed at my Grandma’s trailer park in Apache Junction, AZ that year. I worried the whole time that Santa Claus would forget we were in Arizona for Christmas, despite the three letters I wrote reminding him. Christmas morning was 38 with snowflakes in the air. Santa Claus did not forget where we had gone; he left me the coolest barrettes. For some reason, we decided that since the pool was heated, it was warm enough to go swimming. I recall a very cold walk back to Grandma’s trailer because the changing rooms were closed due to it being Christmas. I have a ton of memories of that trip, from staying at the Thunderbird Inn by the airport in Minnesota (and being kept awake by the neon sign outside) so we could catch an early flight, to the giant flea market where my Grandpa bought me a little set of those felt-covered bears in poses with a lifeguard chair and a palm tree, and I know there was a surfboard, and I remember the ring with my name carved in it that I lost before I ever left their trailer.

I also remember missing the snow and the cycle of outside/inside all day - outside sledding until you’re wet and tired, then go inside and hang everything in front of the woodstove. By the time you go upstairs, finish the sandwich & Cheetos, hot chocolate, and frosted Christmas cookies that was your lunch, your outside clothes will be dry enough to go back out sledding and start the process all over again. I missed Christmas Eve with my cousin/BFF and the new Barbies she would get, which meant I would finally get to play with the ones she got last year. What can I say, I was only 7. All those things were the bones of a good Christmas to me. I swore that I would never again spend Christmas anywhere other than at their house.

When Andy told his parents we wouldn’t be here for Christmas next year, they asked where we’d be. I love that. They travel, so I know we will see them in places other than Minnesota and I’m grateful for that. Familiar faces will be nice in the middle of what I expect to be a very strange year.

I’m also grateful that after 38 years without them, it seems natural to me to want to spend my holidays with my sisters. Finding them has changed my way of thinking about the traditions we have, and why we have them. We have always talked about doing Christmas differently, but we’ve never done anything to change that. Now that choice has been thrown at us. We get to make it, and we are in complete agreement that we are not going to be in Minnesota for Christmas next year. I am done with the cold and the snow and the consistently crappy roads that are impossible to walk on. I want to be outside without needing to add two layers of insulation. I want to be able to throw on my shoes and maybe a hoodie and go for a run. Or a hike. Or just sit on a damn chair in the breeze.

We’ll have to wait and see where we finally land for Christmas next year, but something tells me it will be near the sound of peace, known by some as “the water.”