Piper nods and carefully steers her old Honda around the last turn in the road. A sign for Willow Bend appears and I do a double take when I see the wordsLive MusicandSanta’s Petting Zoo.
“What the hell?” I crane my neck to get another look, but it’s too late.
“What’s wrong?” Piper’s gaze shifts to me for a beat before returning to the road.
“The sign. Someone changed it.”
She shrugs. “Maybe it was time for an update.”
Maybe… Or maybe I’m imagining things because I’m so amped about having an entire week to do nothing but spend time with Piper and my family.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
We clinched the Big Ten conference last week and we’re headed to Atlanta to face off with Clemson in the CFP semi-finals on New Year’s Eve.
We’re so close to the championship game I can taste it.
“Is this the turn?” Piper asks, gesturing to the gravel path that leads up to the farm. Colorful lights have been strung along the fence on either side of the road and there’s a new welcome sign declaring Willow Bend a Winter Wonderland.
“This is it.” Anticipation floods my chest. “You’re going to love Willow Bend.”
I haven’t been home since August and I’ve missed the fresh air and open space. I roll the window down and inhale deeply. It’s chilly, but not nearly as cold as Central Pennsylvania.
Perfect conditions for a stroll across the property.
I can’t wait to show Piper the farm. Winter isn’t exactly the ideal time to discover all the land has to offer, but something tells me she’ll love it, anyway.
We make our way up the drive, which is lined with signs I’ve never seen before.
Santa’s Petting Zoo
Hot Cider & Cocoa
Pictures with Santa
Sleigh Rides
Piper glances at the colorful holiday signs. “I thought your family wasn’t involved in agritourism.”
“They’re not. Or, at least, they weren’t when I left for school in August.”
We pull up to the house—an old white colonial—and I don’t believe my eyes.
There are more Christmas lights than a Walmart seasonal display and greenery covers every available surface.
What the hell is going on?
The farm looks nothing like I remember, and it’s unsettling.
Change is good.
Yeah, unless your childhood home becomes unrecognizable.
“I need to find my mom and Gran.”
We park in front of the house and when we let ourselves in through the kitchen door, we’re greeted by the scent of cookies baking in the oven. It’s a familiar, comforting scent and I’m immediately brought back to my childhood.
At least some things haven’t changed.
