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Seattle is looming closer than ever. It’s right there, barely out of arm’s reach. I can’t believe it. With our road trip last year and the one this year, we have now done a circumference of the states, and I can wholeheartedly say that the northwest coast is by far the most beautiful and appealing to me. And, add on top of the beautiful scenery the fact that it’s a thriving area for computer gurus (hurrah for Dan!) and for librarians (King County Library System, anyone?) and is a hotspot for vegans and green living, and you’ve found yourself in the Schulte’s Great Valley.

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There’s really only one downside to the whole situation, as was re-emphasized to me last night… My family will be here, in Utah, a long day’s drive away. Our weekly (oftentimes more than weekly!) visits are going to come to a brutally abrupt halt.

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NO. I don’t want that to happen. Yesterday, my sister called and said “Come over! I bought corn-on-the-cob!” Cornonthefreakingcob?? I wish I could convey to you the history of corn-on-the-cob and my family. We just freaking love it, because somehow, we only ever get it a few times a year. And every time we do it’s just amazing. We waited until late because my sisters weren’t home from work yet, and then husked, and by around 9pm were able to eat. I’m sitting here, laughing, as I remember it, because most of us are in the kitchen, buttering and salting our corn and eating around the walk-around counter, and Sawyer squirts and Jacob shouts “HEY! You squirted in my eye!” and we’re just eating and all saying “It’s so good. It’s, like, SO GOOD.” And then another family member walks in the room and we say “It’s SO GOOD. You’ve got to get some some! It’s just SO GOOD.” And eventually everyone is in the kitchen, digging in to corn-on-the-cob. And suddenly, I’m not sitting here laughing so much as I am choking back sobs. And after the corn-on-the-cob, it’s late, and Dan wants to tell my little boys — my 10 year brother and my 8 year old nephew — one of his awesome/charming/goofy bedtime stories and I’m on the bed and Jacob is cuddling against me, and his shirt is off and he pulls me arms across him and his skin is so soft and his hands are so small and he is so affectionate and clings to my arms and does his characteristic quickglanceupatmyface whenever he laughs and when the story is over he holds tight and says he doesn’t want me to go, and he doesn’t just mean tonight, but he means Seattle too. And I don’t want to go anymore. I want to stay and watch my boys grow and keep taking them laser-tagging or after-school ice cream visits or mini-golfing, or ANYTHING, just as long as I’m with them.

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They’re my family. We all stay close — close friends and close to home. But not now.

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