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Dashing in the Snow


Last week, after having a perfectly nostalgic few days with friends from another time and another life, and then indulging in a bona fide Southern style gourmet Thanksgiving meal, where each dish was a perfectly caramelized medley of vegetables, butter, brown sugar, pecans, and North American Autumn spices,  we took a drive into the mountains.

IKEDA is a favourite diner to break the journey up to Tahoe

I have  called different parts of this world HOME for long enough periods of time for people and places to have had a chance to leave their impressions on my heart and my mind.  You can try and try to maintain a semblance of a long distance relationship, but in most cases you can't, and so time and distance dull the impressions on your memory to a point that your remembrance of certain people and places are akin to vivid dreams that are hard to recall once you are awakened. 

Mr. Urban, my girl and I had an amazing few days with an old family friend that I had not seen for over a quarter of a century.  But when I met him at the arrivals terminal at SFO, it felt like no time had passed between us.  The visit was short, but beyond lovely and memorable.  And my UrbanToddler fell in love, as I had some thirty odd years earlier, with a fun and sweet Uncle, her first encounter with "Mustache", that she nonchalantly touched and pulled on a few occasions when they were playing Lego on the living room floor.





Our trip to Tahoe and Squaw Valley was a great way to jump start the Holiday Season.  The little snow on the ground brought huge amounts of joy to us, especially to my little girl who has limited acquaintance with the white stuff.  She sled a hundred times down the little hill.  The tall trees showered in tiny twinkle lights and beautiful wreaths adorning giant outdoor fireplaces made you want to stay outside until every last item of your clothing was drenched in the smell of firewood.  


One night we dined at Graham's, under the soft glow of their large vintage chandelier, sitting in front of the wood crackling fire place.  Although it was 5:00 pm, it was dark enough outside, and our girl was exhausted enough from sledding all day,  that Mr. Urban and I, taking in the dim lighting, the white linens, the superb meal, felt like we were on a date.  He even thoughtfully browsed their famously long wine list for a bottle that would compliment the lovely weekend (and to impress me ;).

So now the season is upon us.... Here's to a Merry One with all the ones we Love!

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