Last weekend my mama and I went to that city on the other side of the state that will soon be where I live and go to school in order to look for a place for me to live. It was a good trip as trips go. We had great food EVERYWHERE we ate, which is honestly one of the only two things that I care about even a little bit, even at all. I found a charming little apartment/house/place to live with its own porch, which is the only other thing that I care about. I can live a perfectly happy life if I have good food, a place to put all my books, and a porch. I can deal with a stoop, but really I need a porch.
What made the trip even better though is that my mother told me that she had, for the first time EVER, found herself thinking, “I really hope that she doesn’t write about that on her blog.” And now I can’t remember what it was that I wasn’t supposed to write about so that I can write about it. What was it mama? Tell me!
Since I’ve been back in Knoxville I’ve been packing and let me tell you what, it is awful. I hate it very much thank you. I’ve taken down all of my art, so my beautiful brown and dove grey walls are bare. I only have one set of sheets and a quilt that isn’t packed. Most of the books in my room are in boxes, and I’m sorting through my clothes. I dislike it very much.
I feel like I’m taking apart my life. Which, I suppose, I am. Ugh. The only part that is ok with me is the getting rid of things part. I’ve always loved paring down my possessions and life to the bare minimum (minus books, I just can’t get rid of books) and starting over in a new place from scratch. It just feels so good to remember that this stuff, all the stuff that I have, it isn’t necessary.
I’m really looking forward to building a new cozy little home for my sweet Jackson and I in my new little cottage. Cottage with porch.
1 Comment
July 30, 2009 at 3:18 pm
My lips are sealed
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