To celebrate the recent long weekend, some of my friends jetted off to Hawaii, others sunbathed in St. George and two took the opportunity tour Europe.
While I’m sure these trips were wonderful (and warm), I think I had equally enjoyable adventures on the frozen, blustery plains in Idaho.
Maybe the 50 mph winds swept my sanity away, but I think I had a terrific time going to Zumba with my mom (this obsession is genetic), watching chick flicks with my sister, playing Wii tennis with my little brother (my technique was just as laughable on the screen as it is on the court) and sitting down to regular, home-cooked meals with my family (after learning to survive on granola bars as a single girl, it was wonderful to be reminded that not everyone sees stove tops as extra counter space).
I must admit, though, that I looked longingly at the boat in our garage, wishing Rexburg summers didn’t begin the first week of August and end the second week of August. I would have loved to slip on some sunglasses and frolic in the surf. (Just to be clear, I’ve never actually “frolicked,” and Ririe Reservoir doesn’t have any surf worth mentioning, but it sounds idyllic, doesn’t it?)
Despite my wheat-field surroundings, I did get a glimpse of a tropical retreat. On Saturday, I went with my mom to pick up some flowerpots. We drove to the house of a woman who grows and designs arrangements for many families in the area.