On apple pie and charades

Some nights, you just need to make pie. It is preferable that your boyfriend make the pie (as you are lacking patience tonight) and that afterwards the two of you play charades together. For much longer than you think possible because (surprise surprise!) you find each other completely hilarious and witty beyond belief.

If you have access to the internet, try using a charade generator. We really liked the popular movies topic. Even though it might seem like you need more than two people to have fun with this game, you really don't. And think of how awesome you will appear at parties now that you have mastered the art of couples charades!

January

It is January and I do not know how exactly we came to be here. There was Colorado, most certainly. There was a reunion between my Alaskan man and I which, of course, involved a good deal of feasting. There (too suddenly) were friends and goodbyes and tears at the thrift store curb as I gave away most of my belongings and crammed the rest into my car. Then there was an airplane, a wonderful departure from my old life in which O and I saw Costa Rica, a small bit of Panama, and a long upward swath of Nicaragua.  And so quickly, there we were in Colorado again, putting gas in the groaning car and driving (forever) to Montana. There was family and love and cats and sneaky nibbles of crisp turkey skin. There were more goodbyes and one more plane. Ok, two more planes. One was little. 

And now I am here in Alaska. Here in Alaska there is snow and O’s family and quiet. There will be hibernating. Broken up by bouts of danger sledding and snow rolling and copious drinking.  On a hill above Homer.  And what I am trying to say, what I am trying to get out, is this question. To myself. To you.  Should I come back, to this place? Should I try to write and show you bits of my day? What is really important?  The writing? The photographs? Does anyone really care? Do I care?

It is January. I should probably sort this stuff out.