Wednesday, October 21, 2009

It was like coming home.

I know this is not the 1st time i have blogged about Real Simple Magazine and im sure it wont be the last. Every issue has a question of the month that is featured. the readers write to the magazine and then a handful of responses are published in the next issue. I enjoy reading this section because it is a collection of different opinions and views from people all over the nation.

This month's featured question was "What Does HOME Mean To You". I thought i would share some of the responses that people gave:

Home is being around people who can drive you absolutely crazy one moment & make you feel like a million dollars the next. it's knowing that no matter how hard times get, someone is there for you. -L.W. (Winnemucca, Nevada)

Home means catching fireflies out on the front lawn with my brother. -S.C. (Cary,NC)

It's where I don't have to be perfect. I can put on my pj's & sit down with a glass of wine. -V.H. (Rochester, Minnesota)

A warm bed that you can't get out of in the morning, a tiny pink toothbrush in the bathroom, & the sound of my husband's keys in the door at the end of the day. -D.N. (Charlotte, NC)

The smell of my mother's perfume. -L.N. (San Diego, California)

My husband & I married 7 yrs ago, & we've moved about every year since. Home to me is unpacking that last box. -M.R. (seattle, washington)

Home is where the rags of your life are turned into quilts, lemons become lemonade, and a few extra pounds are simply welcomed as "more of you to love". -S.B. (Four States, WV)

My husband & i lost our home to Hurricane Ivan in 2004. We purchased a 29-ft RV, parked it next to the shell of our house & called it home for 2 years while we rebuilt. We laugh, because although we now have a big, beautiful new house, we just cant seem to part with that little RV. Home is where you happen to be, even if the circumstances arent stellar. -G.M. (gulf breeze, fl)

Every room in my parent's home is filled with memories: the dining room where we ate holiday meals, crammed around a table too small for the crowd, and the kitchen where my brother once cut off one of my braids. Although we won't have the house forever, we will always have the love that came from within its walls. -G.W. (glenview, illinois)

A warm dog curled up by your feet at bedtime. -J.A.M. (seattle, washington)

Home means predictablity in an uncertain world. -M.R.B. (arlington heights, Illinois)

Home is the smell of my husband's neck, right below his ear. -S.J.B. (Corpus Christi, TX)

Our 1999 VW passat wagon. My husband drove me to my law-school graudation in it. it took us on our 5th wedding anniversary trip. we used it to move into our house. when i was in labor, our passat took me to the hospital & brought us home after our son was born. My husband wants a new car, but when i look at our old one, I realize that I have spent more time in it than in our house. It is in that VW that we have mulled over big decisions, enjoyed the scenery, cried, laughed & sung songs. It's our home. -M.J. (washington, dc)

Bathingsuits dangling from the deck rail, a healthy pour of crisp white wine in my glass, and the scent of the grill on my husband's shirt. -A.M. (Oak Park, Illinois)

A log cabin in the snowy mountains, where I'm wrapped in a soft blanket on an oversize plaid couch in front of a roaring fire in a great stone fireplace, drifting to sleep in this toasty-warm room. -M.B. (east greenwich, RI)

For me, home is the sound of my husband's laughter, my spaniel's boundless joy, & a bouquet of fresh flowers on the table. -C.B. (houston, TX)

The smell of fresh laundry and a hot cup of tea. -C.K. (highland, illinois)

Home means snow skis still sitting in the living room in June, dishes in the sink, too much artwork for too little wall space, and indian takeout in the fridge. -A.G. (berkley, california)

Home is welcome chaos. -R.E. (phoenixville, pa)

A good man, a good chair, and a good wine. -D.S. (redding, california)

After reading these and the many others that were published, I stared thinking about what was home to me. It also made me wonder what other people think home is. i was thinking it would be really cool if people commented on this post with their answer to "What does home mean to you" :) i'll go first.

Home to me means: Always running late, my loud, dramatic family talking over each other, my mom making pancakes every saturday morning, the smell of fresh cut grass at dusk, dad's insanely large music collection, my brother sleeping until 1 pm, the distinct smell of my sister, my grandparents dancing in the kitchen while cooking, the laughter of my friends, ella & emmy's blue eyes, trey's flighty-ness, hotdogs & brownies, the quilt my great-great grandmother made, walks with john.

It was like coming home, only to no home I'd ever known. I was just taking her hand to help her out of a cab.
-sleepless in seattle

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

i'll eat you up i love you so.

I have been utterly enchanted by spike jonze's brilliant idea to bring one of the most famous children books to the big screen. i cant help but get all warm and fuzzy when a preview of Where the Wild Things Are comes on tv. i cannot wait until i have a free moment to go and see it!

Doesnt every kid at some point or another create another place to go to figure out the world we live in? i still find myself liberated by my own imagination. longing to create a world of my own. i know i wasnt meant to be king & when i try to, it only causes problems. i am not in control, orchestrating everything the way i would like it.

but i do still find myself wanting to get on a sailboat, driven by hope & desire.
i know exactly where i would go.

she's been here too few years
But still it's much too long
And i always say, it would be good to go away,

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

and it spread.

I used to feel as if i was drowning. bobbing in rough waters, being tossed back and forth by an angry sea. grasping for something, anything that would pull me out of the water. it really is true what they say, you have to lose everything to find it; to find Him. it's worth it though. all that time spent lost at sea. in the end, it is worth it. when He pulls you out of the cold, harsh water. He had no intent of letting you drown. it actually pained Him to watch you suffer like that, but He couldnt help you until you asked for it. He repairs and makes everything new & beautiful again. Then came the breath of fresh air & it was him who taught me to love life once more. to look at the moon & the stars. listen to classical music & NPR. see new places & enjoy new things.

one year & 7 months later, im still learning from him. about books, football, history and music. those are my favorite things that we share with each other.

Bob Dylan once said:

"I consider myself a poet first and a musician second.
I live like a poet and I'll die like a poet."

I think that the Avett Brothers are the closest thing to fit that statement since Dylan. Their words are as beautiful as the music they make. i needed this song. ive been searching for it, waiting for it, even before it was ever written.


There was light in the room
Then you left and it was through
Then the frost started in
My toes and fingertips

And it spread into my heart

Then for I don't know how long
I settled in to doing wrong
And as the wind fills the sail
Came the thought to hurt my self

And it spread into my home
And it spread
And it spread into my soul

Well there are no lines
Separating the truth from the lies

Then you came back from space
With a brand new laugh and a different face
You took my hand and held it up
And shot my arm full of love

And it spread
And it spread into the world.

-the avett brothers


dearest howard,

you are the new laugh, the different face.
thank you for holding my hand.

- me

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


Dear Anthropologie,

I wish i lived inside of your fall catalog.

P.S. I want everything you've got.