|Little church in Genoa|
Sunshine in October warmed our bodies and spirits as we relaxed at Tahoe Ridge last week. Travelers winding their way up Kingsbury Grade believe the Tower building at the Ridge is a fairy castle guarding the lush green Carson Valley seven thousand feet below. Relaxing in our seventh floor apartment makes it easy to let go of the pressure of appointments, deadlines, meetings, and assorted obligations of every day life.
We brought books and writing material. Everett read Matthew and Mark in the New Testament, something he had been wanting to do again. I read my mother’s diaries from 1943 and 1944. I realized I had some revising to do on the memoir I am writing.
Glorious sunrises and sunsets entertained us. We had spectacular views from our bedroom, living room, and balcony. At night, lights turn the valley into a fairy land impossible to capture with our little camera. Car headlights turn into eyes of wild animals creeping up the seven mile grade. They disappear around the curves.
The highlight of the week came when our daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters joined us for the weekend. On Sunday morning we all went to a tiny church in Genoa at the base of the mountain range. We got the last row of empty seats. The pastor invited Emily and Kendra to ring the bell. The girls were enchanted. “It’s just like the little house on the prairie,” they said. We felt the warmth and love of the strangers who amazingly are our brothers and sisters.