VK

Can I tell you that my weekend was magical? Because it was sure lovely. I've got a bundle of stories and pictures to tell you but instead of gushing everything at once, I'll tell you about the two hours that held the most beauty.

I packed a suitcase of age appropriate clothing. Blouses, dark jeans, dressy flats. I brought 80% of these home clean. The rest of my clothes (the running shorts and t-shirts), I had to put in a plastic bag because they were so filthy. One layer of dirt came Saturday morning. K-Ju arrived on her motorcycle, just as Grace's parents were leaving. I looked like quite the teenage rebel, donning a helmet, swinging my leg over the back and zooming off. Adios.

K-Ju's grey and pink helmet said "Hellion" on the back. That's what we were. Two hellions dining on Village Kitchen specials, then zooming down 100 N and onto Flint Road. Two hellions that stopped at the top of a hill and threw our arms open wide to the green embrace that is a midwestern summer. Sweet corn stands. Rolling fields. Lines of trees that hide running creeks. Hit the throttle one more time and don't slow down on the curve. From zero to silo in 60 seconds.

For the first time in five years, I didn't want to get on the plane coming back to Utah. I want more green, more humidity, more lightning bugs, more wide open spaces. I want to stay in a place that still has dirt roads. Where my heritage isn't just names on a paper, but barns and fields and the sweat of hard work.