Thursday, April 18, 2019

Massanutten 2019

We have reached a point in our lives where living is cyclical; we do the same things every year, wash, rinse, repeat. If you look back at the history of this blog, you start to notice patterns: every year a post about Massanutten, then our epic summer travels (including a trip to Kentucky), then Labor Day in the mountains, than the obligatory Halloween post, followed by Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I am writing this in April of 2020, in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic, which has finally given me the time and space to update this blog after nearly two years. One reason I fell out of the habit of blogging was the feeling of redundancy as I blogged about the same things over and over again, year after year. But this week we were supposed to head to Massanutten for spring break, and instead, we are trapped in our home, afraid to get within six feet of people, afraid to touch anything. Suddenly, when our tradition has been snatched from us, the repetition of our lives feels special. My backyard, where I'm sitting as I write this, is beautiful, but it's not the mountains.

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