The return of the family

It’s not quite the prodigal son story, but all is well in our little compound again. After five days at Hyatt Lost Pines Resort outside Bastrop, Jordan, Christian, and Jacob are back home. I hate to confess it, but I always feel a bit off kilter when they are gone. Reminds me of the story about the little old lady (I resent that designation!) who went for her first plane ride. When asked about it afterward, she said, “It was all right, but I never did put my full weight down.” When the Burtons are gone, I don’t quite put my full weight down. And now you know why I was so glad to have son Jamie here for two days.

Lost Pines has been the Burton family August destination for several years, a trip Jacob always looks forward to. It’s got everything from fishing and kayaking to lounging by the pool. This year, Jordan tells me it was quite safe—only booked to twenty percent capacity; staggered times for guests to be at the swimming pool. (Since she's a luxury travel consultant, she knows about such things as how resorts are coping with safe distancing.) The pictures they sent sort of murmur “tranquility.” This was the first year Jacob is old enough to kayak alone, and also the first year he didn’t have a buddy with him.

On the way home they had lunch with Megan and family and toured the new house. Their report is a rave, and I am anxious to see it. According to Christian, it is “very modern,” which the old house, on the same spot, was not—anything but. I am delighted that they are settled in and happy.

Tonight I’ll cook a welcome-home dinner (after Jordan picks up the groceries at Central Market)—chicken enchiladas, a recipe I found online. It’s got Rotel and hatch chilies, and I’m hoping its not too spicy for me. I ordered the mild version of both of those ingredients. And it’s got lots of sour cream and cheese—sounds just a bit rich.

If you’re on Facebook, perhaps you’re enjoying as much as I am the postings on the timeline, “View from My Window.” Spectacular views from all over the world, with lots from South Africa, Norway, New Zealand, and Australia. And of course some from the U.S. I have hesitated but this morning I snapped a shot of the view from my window in Fort Worth. Not too shabby, just not as dramatic as the mountain and ocean views I’ve been admiring. I’ll probably post it. What do you think?

My saying for the day comes from my friend, Chloe. She too is “of an age” as am I, and she too is strictly quarantining. She lives alone, having lost her husband during the past year, but has family close by who visit her frequently. Still, like many of us, Chloe feels the pull of the life she has had to give up. In recalling a memory, she wrote, “back when I was someone else.” I think that’s how a lot of us feel. Before the pandemic, we were someone else. The question, which our minister touched on this morning, is what or who will we be when it is over. Chloe Webb, by the way, is a sacred harp singer and the author of Legacy of the Sacred Harp.