Joy: A feeling of great pleasure and happiness

Last weekend, my dad and baby sister flew up from San Diego. Maeci is twelve years younger than me, and lives one thousand two hundred and forty-eight miles away, but oh. my. goodness. how I love her! She is considerate, kind, humble, patient, positive, tender, brilliant, beautiful, hilarious, and so much fun to be with. She fills me in on all the important things- like snap-chat, and that facebook is no longer cool, and that it's embarrassing to have a crush on someone who is younger than you. She kept saying, "I can't believe you actually live in the forest."

My dad was meant to be a grandpa. London followed him around all weekend, knowing that he would give her whatever she asked for if she said "Um, Popi?" in just the right tone of voice. 

At London's soccer game.

At Thomasson Farm's Pumpkin Patch.

We drove to Enumclaw, which is this tiny town thirty minutes from me, with the most picturesque farms and quaint, colonial-style homes. Each home sits on acres and acres of rolling green hills, all against the backdrop of an evergreen forest. There, at Thomasson Farm, we picked pumpkins, jumped in a pit of corn kernels, and the girls enjoyed a petting zoo.

"We're going on a walk, we're going on a walk..."

I miss my family. It's harder than I thought it would be to be more than just a car-ride from their open doors. And so they fly to see me---okay, it's mostly just to see London and Elle--- every few weeks. And I get to show them my forest, and they play with my red-headed angels, and, in turn, they leave me utterly full of joy.