When I was younger, I thought life would always go on the same, a strong rock of routine and comforting sameness. It hasn't, though.

There is still routine and normalcy, but it's not the kind that made up my childhood. Now, as I'm growing older, I have to know that trips to Germany and days spent bicycling through the countryside and leisurely breakfasts that last until one in the afternoon aren't always going to be a part of my life. There will be moments that come close to the ones of now, in flashes of deja vu, but it won't be the same, because time marches on and the past must be released. And as I sit here in my grandparent's kitchen, the one where so many meals and laughter and bonding have been shared, I desperately try to cling to and memorize what makes this special.

Things like spending an evening at the ranch feeding the animals and reminiscing in that old camper that's still sitting there after all those years.
Things like teaching Lilly to bicycle on that little strip of asphalt in front of the house, my lungs burning from breathing hard the chilled air.
Things like walking through the town square for the first time in two years and quickly eating ice cream, trying to finish it before it melts but savoring each bite at the same time and, despite my best efforts, still getting brainfreeze.
Things like ignoring the ever-present pressing need to be doing something and just sitting and talking, content in stillness and being with family.
Things like, after rainrainrain and cloudscloudsclouds, seeing the sun parting the clouds, spilling light everywhere and thinking it's all going to be okay, even if just for a little while. (i'm still really ready for the sun to come out all day, though)
Things like running my hand over all the little treasures stored up on windowsills and cabinets, breathing in their scent and studying the tiny details.
Things like the luxury of actually getting to spend time with grandparents, just me and them.

And things like realizing what makes it all special and being able to be thankful with it, and also, realizing it's already 1:52pm and I've wasted far too much time at this screen. Powering down and going to go make some more memories.

The past twenty four hours have been cold air blowing from the vents and endless connections and just wanting a place to stretch out already! Also, people watching. I wanted to muster up the courage to talk to them and ask them where they are headed, or maybe just ask if they want to talk and truly listen to the words that spill from their lips. (for the record, I was too scared. next time maybe?)

Outside the glass, the sky was filled with pillow-y clouds, pierced through by planes making their course through the sky. No matter how many times I fly, knowing that you can get on a machine that flies through the sky, sit a few hours, and land in a completely different world fills me with an incredible wonder,

For the next two months, I'm in Germany visiting family. This is my twelfth time over here and I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be back (it was also wonderful to eat something other than plane food. blech. there's only so much of that stuff you can take!). I'm so happy to be speaking German again and be surrounded by this wonderful world of family and memories. When I walked into my grandparents' house this afternoon, I breathed in the familiar smells and sights. In a world of changechangechange, I love the knowledge that this house will remain virtually the same no matter the year. Sure, there will be new things here and there, but it will still be my grandparents' house and there is nothing that will ever change that. And in addition to reliving memories, we have quite a few little trips planned here and there and I am so excited. I hope my time here in Europe will be the refresher and rejuvenation I've been needing.

Alright, I'm off to rest these sleep-deprived weary bones (this darn jetlag/time change thing is throwing me off)...catch ya later! I can't wait to share these next few weeks with you.

I scrawl words in crooked lines because it is the only way to give ear to the thoughts desperately pleading to be heard. As if by magic, they string together on their own in my head and it is all I can do to allow them to march out without being trampled in the process. I write because these thoughts would otherwise go unheard and be lost, collecting in dusty corners and clinging to the cobwebs strung between forgotten memories.The beat of my heart and the scratch of my pen echo the comforting irregularity of the drops on the roof. The thunder rumbles deep and the lighting flashes bright in between the drips. Tomorrow the skies will dawn clear and blue again, the thick air that now cleaves to my body will be replaced by a freshness. Along with the sunrise, my mind will waken clear, too. Right now, I write because it's all I can do. But tomorrow, I will leave my pen resting on the surface of the paper and I will collect more words for another rainy night. And so I will continue in that old pattern, collecting and emptying, over and over and over again until I run out of words or pages, whichever comes first.

This is what makes my clock tick, my blood pump, my brain function. This is why I write.

---

Why do you write?

ps I apologize for my silence in the bloggy world lately--I've been traveling this past week and I'm getting ready to go travel some more on monday. exciting times!

top: c/o sugarlips || blazer: theory || shorts: cutoffs || shoes: target || belt: thrifted || bracelets: miscellaneous

It's been proper summer weather here lately (i.e., hot). Most days I just want to sit in the pool and drape my sweaty frame in front of the air conditioner vent, but sometimes I muster up the courage to brave the heat and go out to further explore the town. One of my favorite things about this pretty city of mine is the rich history, despite it only being just over a hundred years old. Case in point: I had the chance to go inside a B-17 bomber from World War II last week. The nineteen forties/World War II have intrigued me for as long as I can remember (which is probably explains why Captain America is a favorite movie of mine...in addition to the whole Chris Evans part, that is) and when I stepped onto that plane, I felt transported back in time. And dressed in my pretty lacy tank, courtesy of the lovely folks at Sugarlips, the heat wasn't so bad either. Definitely two things to be happy about!

Adding to my happy list...

the smell and feel of sheets dried in the sun || the color white, the warm kind that changes color in the light || little sisters that snuggle in your bed early in the morning || the moment during a summer night when it switches from hot to mercifully cool || pulling weeds out by the roots || the feeling when your sun-warmed skin slips into the pool || the 1940s and history in general ||


What are some things on your happy list?