A year ago, well almost a year ago, we drove through a blizzard up to Brett’s parents’ house, wherein we spent a most festive Christmas. It was happy and comfortable and they are so good at making me feel like a true part of the family. However, one evening, we all settled in to watch slides of Brett and his brother when they were kids. Also present for the festivities were Brett’s brother and his then fiancé (they got married this past summer). The slide projector was set up in the basement family room, which also houses the wood burning stove. (side note: Every house in Montana has a wood burning stove. If the house does not have such a stove, a true Montanan finds a way to put one in, using sometimes questionable methods. I desperately want a wood burning stove.) Here’s the wondrous thing about wood burning stoves: they heat the entire house, which is great, except that the room that contains the stove is about 3,000 degrees. It’s like having a room sized sauna that also smells like the north woods. Delightful for 5 minutes; hellish for 3 hours.

Anyway, to add to the general feeling that one could possibly spontaneously combust from the unrelenting heat; the carpet in that room is shag, and also red. Not like a dark red, or a rust red, or a maroon, but a blazing-bright-burning-hot-innards-of-the-earth kind of red. And did I mention that it was shag? Shag.

So we all settled in to watch slides of the cuteness that was/is Brett and his brother. Brett and I next to each other, but there was no cuddling or holding of hands, because of the aforementioned temperature problem. The heat did not prevent Brett’s brother and fiancé from snuggling, however. No no, they were all wrapped up in each other the entire 3 hours, and I seriously could not figure out how they were managing such stifling closeness. The last thing I want when I’m hot is another hot body glued to mine. I didn’t even want my body to touch itself, or the chair for that matter. If I could have hovered, I would have. However, these two are also the no-sex-before-marriage kind, and I think that had something to do with their incessant touching. Nothing like unrequited sexual urges/tension (28 years in the making) to make you do all sorts of weird stuff, like public displays of affection. Gross.

At any rate, the home movies/slides were adorable and I got to see Brett in his underoos, which all 70’s/80’s era children had to wear. Additionally, I learned the Brett’s father had to work away from the family for months at a time, and so Brett’s mother was alone, with two young kids and a job and a house, and her family was far away in North Dakota. When I learned this bit of information I inquired, “How did you manage?” She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I just did because I had to.” She’s awesome. Sometimes you just have to do what you gotta do, and that’s what you do. Simple and effective.