I cannot begin to do it justice

I took the photo above on our first morning there. Everyone was still sleeping when I took a little walk around my brother's extensive garden. Perfect lighting, saturated colors and silence made it the perfect way to begin my day.


Somehow whenever we began planning a trip to Asheville to visit my two brothers and their families I got so lost in the journey to get there that I forgot how wonderful it would be actually being there. Finding maps, packing coolers, gasing cars, prepping cat sitters. . . I was too caught up in the details of travel.


And maybe that's why I was so surprised at the emotion of just being with them. At times it was more than this girl could handle. Simply being near those that know you best, sharing time with the two people who come from whence you come, and being able to see them in their natural habitat, the lives that they have built, makes me openly emotional and weepy.


Forgive me, if for the sake of prosperity, I provide a detailed rundown of the past few days. As I type this, I know that I cannot do it justice. I cannot adequately describe the beauty of the Asheville area, the mountains, the gardens, the art. I know that I cannot relay to you how much it meant to be with my family, to be with Cynical in this very unique and inviting place. I will not be able to tell you how my heart, much like the Grinch's, grew and grew and grew whenever I laid my eyes upon my niece and nephews. So, let me give you the logistical and clinical view, but know that underneath is more emotion, more than I will ever be able to wrap my mind around.


Cynical and I packed up early on Friday morning and hit the road to Asheville. The trip went quickly, thanks to a plethora of CDs, snacks and a cooler (remember me being so caught up in the logistics, sometimes that pays off). Stops along the way also broke up the seven-hours on the road. We even managed to hit an outlet mall somewhere between here and there. Every traveler needs a new pair of jeans, right?


Bro P and his bride-to-be Artist J had graciously offered to host us during our stay and to be our guides. Their home is colorful, welcoming, unique, creative and comfortable. We unloaded and headed out to Tomato Cocina Latina for some dinner. Mmmmmmm. Our guides then took us to a backyard gelato/sorbetto stand. Watermelon gelatto. . . just what we needed on a hot summer evening.


And then we trekked to Bro D's house where we met Prince R for the very firs time. . . what a beautiful, chubby, red-headed baby. He's so very sweet and so incredibly perfect. Adored by all, including his "big" sister, Princess S. It amazes me how precious it is to hold a baby. And to see my youngest brother with his little family is moving and inspiring.


Realizing that babies and two-year-olds need sleep, we went home and soon thereafter turned into bed. We had a big day ahead.

One of the many things we reluctantly left behind at the stuff store.

On Saturday, Artist J prepared an incredible breakfast and soon thereafter we headed out to some antique/collectible spots. We met up with my youngest brother and all went for lunch at Mamacita's. Mmmmmexicano. Later we found ourselves meandering around the Screen Door, yet another interesting shopping spot.

Yarn Paradise, Asheville

In the midst of it all, we managed to hit a yarn shoppe, Yarn Paradise where I scored some Koigu, my first Koigu yarn as a matter of fact.

Bruschetta with fresh mozarella, home-grown, organic tomatoes and basil.

Babies also need naps, so we parted ways and those of us of age started preparing a big dinner in celebration of Bro D's birthday. Bro P's extensive garden provided the bounty for the meal. Artist J provided the expertise. Ocra, tomatoes, bruschetta, local wine, fresh peach pie, grit patties, squash casserole. . . . .

Wine chilling in antipation of our celebration.

The food was wonderful, but perhaps what made it most meaningful was all of us, in the same household, recalling similar memories and sharing time together. As we recounted some of our most embarrassing moments, shared some memories we had never verbalized before and laughed and cried, I was overwhelmed with how much I miss my brothers. I missed being part of their daily lives. I missed knowing all about who they had become.


I have a lot to say about that night we spent in Bro P's living room, all of us having just dined on a meal we prepared in unison, talking and sharing, opening up and being together. . . but I don't know if I'll ever be able to verbalize it. Sometimes feelings are that way. . . difficult to describe and boil down into simple sentences.


We stayed up too late, ate too much food and made too big of a mess. We finally collapsed into bed, wondering what our Sunday would hold.

Purl's Yarn Emporium, Asheville

And our Sunday held so much. We nabbed breakfast at the City Bakery, met up with the little ones and I held that baby, that sweet, sweet baby.


Realizing that the yarn shoppes in Asheville are open on Sundays, we made a stop at Purl's Yarn Emporium, where spied some more Cascade Fixation in earthtones and a skein of gray Trekking Pro Natura. At the Earth Guild I snagged some Manos in wine and some Gems sock yarn in French Blue and Burgundy.

Wading in the cool, clear waters.

We later headed to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a view of the mountains, where we stopped at Graveyard Fields for a hike amongst the Rhododendrum forest and some wading in a beatifully clean stream and waterfall.

A shot of a portion of the stream moving through Graveyard Fields.

Cynical and I sat in bewilderment at the beauty, while Bro P and my nephew Prince E swam in the clear pool of water. On our way back up the trail, they stopped and picked fresh blueberries which accompanied us on our trip home. Cynical and I sat together, watching the sunset over the mountains, in awe of the incredible peacefulness. It was truly breath-taking, as in it literally took my breath away, I think I gasped at the view. As we were in the Pisgah area, we stopped at the inn there for an incredible view of the mountains and an exquisite dinner.

Alice, the true hostess, slept with us one night while we visited Asheville.

So very tired, once we finished maneuvering through the winding roads, we parted ways as Cynical and I headed for our hotel and Bro P and his family turned in for the night.


We arose a little later than expected this morning and I reluctantly took my spot in the passenger seat. About seven hours, three stops and a fruitful visit to a used book store later and we were once again home. Loads of laundry, a list of chores and a work week ahead are not enough to distract me from reliving our weekend over and over again in my head. Forgive me, my mind and heart are still in Asheville.