“The time between meeting and finally leaving is sometimes called falling in love.” ~Lisa Loeb We painted the back porch together, but separately. It was a labor of love, really. I wanted Payne’s Blue Gray, and she wanted a kind of traditional blue, so we compromised… and used the kind of traditional blue. I didn’t … Continue reading Shacking Up: Part 3
“All marriages are happy. It’s the living together afterward that causes all the trouble.” ~Raymond Hull I can’t say I wasn’t worried. It would be a lie. Because moving 800 miles to be with someone I knew mostly through the hundred or so emails we sent each other, to live with someone I had only … Continue reading Shacking Up: Part 2
“My little sister and my best friend… shacking up.” ~Ross Geller (Friends) Two more nights in the old house. 13 years of going to sleep and waking up here, with its creaky stairs, its hidden corners, and its turn-of-the-century ambiance. I remember when we moved in, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, back in the … Continue reading Shacking Up: Part 1
I get home every day and let out a breath I never realize I’ve been holding. It’s apparently exhausting to paste a smile on my face and venture out into the wide world every day when my natural state is homebody. I shed my outer clothes like a caterpillar heading into a cocoon, and I … Continue reading Just Like Mister Rogers
Indeed, I recall the day of my nephew’s introduction to this world in vivid detail. It was raining, and I was surprised my sister let me into the room. And I remember my graduation day like it was yesterday, when I was almost late because I had to take the bus in my graduation gown.
And I think back on Friday nights hanging out on South Street with Anthony and Ken, two other inquisitive souls who will always share with me those nights spent wandering. It is all still so clear to me, although it has been fifteen years since I’ve lived here. Continue reading “Memories From Home”
You know, people asked me if I was going home, and I honestly didn’t know how to answer them. If I’m being honest with myself, this place is no longer home, but in place and at times it still feels like it. When I go down to South Street, even though it has changed so … Continue reading Place I Called Home