Hear me out.
During my husband’s last deployment, a year in Afghanistan, our four children (three of them teenagers, fortheloveofallthatsholy) and I opted to stay put at our base in Europe. With a great base community, it didn’t make sense to uproot them for a year, only to uproot them again in another year with a new assignment.
And then winter hit. The dismal, grey winter that is months and months and months long. One blustery day, at the base’s little DVD rental store, I came across an orange DVD case that set my life on a fateful course.
Gilmore Girls…hmmm….I’d heard of it. Obviously some sort of chick-flick TV show that my hubby would never consent to watch.
Why not give it a try?
And with that, the next 153 episodes were sealed.
I immediately fell in love with Lorelai’s fast-talking, wise-cracking ways.
And the relationship between her and her daughter, Rory, warmed my heart.
I loved the town of Stars Hollow. I wanted to LIVE in Stars Hollow. Her icy relationship with Emily reminded me of some (cough, cough) challenging extended family relationships of my own.
I reached the end of disc 1 and knew I was hooked. Thankfully, the video store was on the way to my oldest son’s high school sports practices, so he kindly returned and filled my next installment. And the next and the next. (Sweet boy!)
During that year, I didn’t meet many of the goals I’d initially set- sewing a quilt, learning to love running, organizing my craft and linen closets.
But I’d continued work on my freelance career, toted kids to dance and sports and church, homeschooled, and did volunteer work on base.
We’d taken many sightseeing trips. But a long bout with bronchitis set back my workout efforts. The week in which all of our car batteries died seemed like a cruel trick of Murphy. (Don’t know Murphy? Stick around with military life long enough and you’ll become acquainted). A series of encounters with weird next-door neighbors depressed me.
