Even though my husband and I have only been married a little over two years (2 years, 3 months, 29 days to be exact), we have already set traditions in our small family. I am not even sure these things have been done intentionally, but I relish in them nonetheless.
As my favourite season of the year approaches, I recall the past two annual trips that we have taken to our beloved Eureka Springs. We trekked through a wood that we pretended was our very own when we beheld Pivot Rock. We indulged in ice cream together on a bench outside one of the local shops, despite the cold weather and full bellies. We tripped on a tourist trap, making the dreaded mistake of seeing a certain famous outdoor play, which shall remain unnamed. (The session with “the Potter” beforehand, however, made everything worthwhile. It, unlike the $25/ticket for the play, was absolutely free of cost.) We pitched and stayed in a tent for TWO nights, despite the cold, rainy outdoors and nothing underneath us but a paper thin sleeping bag and a hard ground covered in thick roots. At that same campsite, we continuously fought back the relentless ants in the cooler that held the only food we had brought…someone kept dripping a little whiskey here and there! We ooed and ahhed over the incredible canvas of nature spread before us, including heavenly trees with leaves that displayed colors we only dream about, not being able to keep from praising the Maker because of them. How I love the experiences we have shared and the memories we have made together in that wonderful, quirky town.
Another tradition that brings tears of joy to my eyes is annually going together to the Hunter Christmas Tree Farm. I can almost smell the hay that we have sat upon during the hayrides out to the trees. The taste of the delicious apple cider served free of charge is still on my tongue, cider steaming enough to warm me from the inside out. (Doug, for some reason unknown to me, prefers to partake from a freely offered cup of cold cider!) The thrill is still in my heart of choosing together our very own Christmas tree, and I can almost feel my sore arm muscles from sharing in the duty of cutting our tree from the ground. My mind’s eye has a snapshot of the cozy craft barn, as well as the small treats we have chosen for one another. As difficult a time that Doug always has forcing the tree to stand up straight in the tree stand at home and swearing that we’ll never get another “real” tree, we nevertheless continue to continue our little tradition.
As the years go quickly by, I eagerly wait upon the coming years filled with traditions we will continue and the new ones we will establish and implement. Such life is found in having and carrying on traditions; new experiences are had and new memories are birthed despite doing similar actions year after year after year…
all for now @
8:43 AM
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