When the pavement turned to gravel in the middle of the woods to a house not yet seen, I laughed softly to myself “It’s Aaron’s brother, they’re not going to kill you.”

I drove a few winding roads, past a few horses and up a hill and there was the house in a wooded glen. I was welcomed in to toddler cheers, a dog that wanted to be seen & loved and a cat that wanted to be pasted to my side. The busyness of life didn’t stop because I had arrived, it just swirled around me as we sipped coffee in the kitchen and chatted about the flowers the owner before had planted to bloom in every season. We bribed the little ones with tortilla chips to be still for 2 minutes (so real) and everyone cuddled around the newest Ingle: little baby Ella. The Ingles made me feel like family on a Monday morning and I'll never forget it.

I think the owner would have loved the shrieks of happy children running on the floors of the home she loved, artwork hung in the playroom, a baby in the garden amidst the flowers she planted. One hot sticky summer morning in July a new season arrived, the one with Ella Ingle in it, and it was the best. Congratulations, Ingles!