Tag Archives: Home


22 Apr

We lived that first year in a tiny yellow house, all brick, with a steep driveway.  The yard was overgrown, long neglected, and the front stairs were rickety.  We didn’t have heat, not because of a lack of opportunity but because of a lack of finances, and we spent those long winter nights huddled together under the quilt, watching movies, talking, or sleeping.

Spring came, and the whole world turned green.  The house was set back from the road, down a hill and in front of a creek.  The property was surrounded by trees and separated from the neighbors by bushes and brush.  I awoke one morning to tiny bursts of green, a relief after seeing so much brown for so long.  We slept with the screen door open, fresh air circulating through the house and providing us with solid nights of sleep and mornings filled with sunlight and birds.  We traveled to his family’s farm for Easter, two solid hours of driving, our new puppy sleeping in the backseat.  I met everyone that day, an overwhelming prospect even to the most outgoing of souls.  I forgot everyone’s name and relationship to each other the moment I stepped away, but the food was good and people were kind, and with that combination it doesn’t really matter if names are recalled.

The summer was hot and long, bringing lots of bugs along with it.  We killed roaches nightly, and it made me hate that little house.  And when we got that problem under control our air conditioner went out, leaving us breathless and sweating, moving slowly from room to room, taking cold showers and lying naked under fans.  We fought a lot, mostly because of the heat and the rapid way that our lives were speeding up to, leaving us fragile and confused, blinking in the new light of change.  He told me he loved me at the end of June.  Then his ex-girlfriend left that August for grad school, five states away.  We fought bitterly the night he went to say goodbye to her, leaving us both hurting deeply, in different ways.  But soon she was gone, and autumn came.

The trees lining the property turned fire-like when September rolled around.  Soon there were no leaves left on the trees; instead, they all lived on our deck and front steps and on top of the cars, flying about in a blaze of glory whenever the wind picked up.  He moved into my room in November, and spent Christmas at my house, braving my family, who prefers their holiday with a little drink on the side.

We left that little house in the last days of 2010, leaving behind a cold kitchen that we hadn’t used since the temperature dropped below freezing.  We spent the whole month of December in our bedroom, the space heater on high and planning where to go next.  We live in a generic condo now, where heat and air conditioning is included in our monthly rent.  I love it here (no bugs) and so does he (better floorplan); it’s a step up from the little yellow house.

I miss those cold nights, sometimes, when it was just the two of us and everything was new.  We spent the whole workday looking forward to going home, putting on pajamas, and climbing into bed with each other.  It was a good start; something I think I’ll always look back on with a warm, happy feeling.  It was the start of something good.


6 Dec

It’s finally December, which means, invariably, that it’s finally cold. And we don’t have heat in our house, because, being an old and poorly insulated rental property, said house would be way out of our budget to heat properly.

As I sit here basking in the warm-ish air emitting from the space heater, I think about Christmas. The big day is three weeks away, and though I’m further along in the holiday process than I was last year, I still feel behind. We decided not to get a tree here in the tiny and cold yellow house, opting instead for white lights strung all over the living room. I hardly have any Christmas decorations; turns out all my decorations were for the Christmas tree that we currently don’t have.

I still love Christmas, though. My mom’s house is all decked out, with white lights in the bushes and on the railing outside, red and green and white towels in the bathrooms, a tree brightly lit downstairs. It even smells like the holidays, something I realized when I visited home tonight. That’s one of my favorite parts about Christmas, Thanksgiving, the whole last part of every year. I love the smells that take me back to when I was small, or that make me feel warm and safe and at home. It’s something I try to recreate wherever I am. Tie that fact into my always trying to make wherever I am into something of a home, but that’s another post.

Happy Christmas, readers. More on this joyful time of year next week.


28 Jul

It’s Wednesday morning, and I’ve been up and awake since 7:15am. There were plans of an oil change, doctor visits, a sort of rushy morning. However, there were leftovers from the paving project last night on my street, and they were blocking me into my driveway. Literally, a giant flatbed, sent to pick up and take away all the fancy paving equipment, blocking me into my abode.


Instead of running errands and doing boring things, I’ve found myself taking it slow, sitting with my coffee, watching the sun come up over the neighborhood. I’m on my third cup, the cat and dog have been fed, I don’t have anything to do until about 11am. The air conditioning has been on all night, and the house is the perfect kind of coolness, and I’m falling back in love with my house, with my neighborhood, with everything that’s in between these four walls, with everything that is going to happen in the coming months. It’s amazing the simple, unexpected things that make a day special.