There's nothing quite like going home for the holidays. Even if you have to postpone the holidays so you can make it home for them. Last month Jason and I made the trip up to Pennsylvania to spend a belated holiday with my family.
Even though there was no Christmas tree up or decorations around the house (despite my mother's protests), it still felt like Christmas. We even queued up the Christmas music as we opened presents. Yes. Because we are that cool.
But Christmas would not be complete, even in January, without making it a white one.
This is the time of year in the north where its so cold your fingers freeze the moment you leave the house. Your body starts shaking and you don't know why. And the ability to take in a deep breath becomes ten times harder than it was a moment ago. Yet, there we were, out there taking it all in. Shoveling and scraping windows.
Ok, to be honest, I didn't shovel. Or scrape a window. I watched. But there was shoveling and scraping going on none the less.
And no trip home would be complete without a stop at my favorite Italian restaurant. The place I worked for years and have cherished for longer.
The best part of the stop was being able to see my grandparents. Jason is starting to get the hang of this picture taking thing (with post cropping and editing on my part...).
There really is nothing like being back home.
