It’s Tuesday. Or at least I think it is, if I’m doing the math right.
It’s one of the things I most relish about our now-traditional week of Thanksgiving on the Oregon coast: the blessing of losing track of time and date, surrounded by family, and the calming influence of sand and waves and salt air.
Before this gets lost in the shuffle of the ‘tween-hockey-and-soccer seasons, this past weekend saw a couple of firsts for Li: her first goal in a full-ice game (she also had two assists, and to be clear: she’s scored previously in cross-ice small-sided games) and her first penalty (a soft tripping call, while she was skating with the puck?).
She played in her first out-of-town tournament (Teton Valley’s house tournament in Victor) with a sort of thrown-together mix of mostly house-team kids and a couple of travel team kids that generally lacked enough critical mass to really produce anything resembling decent play, but she still had fun. And it got us out of town for a few days during this late-season stretch of winter…
I’m up early, the cinnamon rolls are rising in the oven, the house is quiet (for a bit longer), we’ve got a couple inches of new snow to shovel… it’s a little easier to forget about all that feels wrong with the world these days and focus on what’s good and right and all the ways we’ve been blessed.
Friday was my last day of work until the early-middle part of January and Li is out of school this week ahead of Christmas, so today marks the first “real” day of our collective Christmas break. We all survived Li’s first hockey tournament over the weekend; the Christmas tree is up and decorated; our plans are set for Christmas baking for the week; I have a bit of Christmas preparation still to do before I declare myself ready.
After being up and at the rink by 5:15 the past two mornings for Li’s early games, it felt wonderful to sleep a little late this morning.