It snowed here, for what may be the only time this winter. We shall see, I suppose. The kids thought it was pretty darn cool (well, kind of: Ashton dreams of snow all winter but then realizes snow is cold and rather quickly changes her mind). So we grabbed our mittens and hats and headed for the mountains, both in celebration of my birthday and to search for a Christmas tree. The fact that snow happened at the same time was a lucky break; I’m thankful for the way it turned our drive into a splendidly beautiful one and offered us a rare opportunity to make snow angels, throw snowballs, get really cold, and drink hot cocoa on the way out. Our tree search ended up fruitless, as it seems finding Christmas trees in the woods of WA requires going high into the mountain-tops (something easy to do in Montana but not so out here). We went to a tree farm as well and had a ton of fun running through the place, but in the end we opted for a tree purchased from the NEX on the way home. It was a big day, a long day, a day full of unexpected adventures, and one that started and ended with love, food, and attention offered freely to me by my loved ones. I am 36 years strong now (4 years past that biopsy day) and all is well.