Sixteen
It's kind of a bummer that there is no fourteen, I agree. One day our fourteen will be found stuck under one of my shoes, or in the dusty console in my car, and I'll post it, and we'll all be content and that itchy feeling will go away.
I've decided that since now I don't qualify for a prize, I will have to give myself a prize. Hmmmm, what do I want? I KNOW! A trip to West Africa!
No, really, I'm going to Burkina Faso to do some writing, filming, and photography for LJUrban, the company that Chinua is working with here in Sacramento. The upcoming project that I'll be writing about is just bone shakingly cool. I'm so, so excited to be a part of it, with my good friend Jessie, and my new friend Cyndy.
Seriously, I haven't traveled out of the continent since before Chinua and I were married, back in the sleeping in hammocks on the beach on an Indian island days. I remember how for years I would grow covetous when I was driving friends to the International airport, how I longed just to get on a plane. I NEED AN INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT. And in recent times I have become much more content. I have learned the beauty of being restrained. As my friend put it once, "Lean into the restraint."
And of course, now that this new contentment is here, opportunities for travel are popping out of the cracks in the couch. (There is a lesson here, somewhere.)
I will be guest blogging for LJUrban at the time, and will be sure to direct you there when I know how it will work.
And, the house. The house! I love the house. It makes me afraid, a little, how much I love the house, considering how temporary this arrangement is, but I realize that everything is temporary, right? So you just love things while they are there, without that compulsion to grasp.
I love the beadboard wainscotting in the kitchen, the quirky little doorways. I love the pantry that has the sink in it, so that I have to walk back and forth between the kitchen and the pantry to do dishes and put water in the pots. I like the water pressure. I like the world's biggest oak tree in the back yard. I like the funky falling down neighborhood, and the train that runs nearby, and the molding around the doorways.
Now if I can only refrain from injuring myself further, trying to get things in order.
I don't have internet access at my house until the 27th. Yikes.
I've decided that since now I don't qualify for a prize, I will have to give myself a prize. Hmmmm, what do I want? I KNOW! A trip to West Africa!
No, really, I'm going to Burkina Faso to do some writing, filming, and photography for LJUrban, the company that Chinua is working with here in Sacramento. The upcoming project that I'll be writing about is just bone shakingly cool. I'm so, so excited to be a part of it, with my good friend Jessie, and my new friend Cyndy.
Seriously, I haven't traveled out of the continent since before Chinua and I were married, back in the sleeping in hammocks on the beach on an Indian island days. I remember how for years I would grow covetous when I was driving friends to the International airport, how I longed just to get on a plane. I NEED AN INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT. And in recent times I have become much more content. I have learned the beauty of being restrained. As my friend put it once, "Lean into the restraint."
And of course, now that this new contentment is here, opportunities for travel are popping out of the cracks in the couch. (There is a lesson here, somewhere.)
I will be guest blogging for LJUrban at the time, and will be sure to direct you there when I know how it will work.
And, the house. The house! I love the house. It makes me afraid, a little, how much I love the house, considering how temporary this arrangement is, but I realize that everything is temporary, right? So you just love things while they are there, without that compulsion to grasp.
I love the beadboard wainscotting in the kitchen, the quirky little doorways. I love the pantry that has the sink in it, so that I have to walk back and forth between the kitchen and the pantry to do dishes and put water in the pots. I like the water pressure. I like the world's biggest oak tree in the back yard. I like the funky falling down neighborhood, and the train that runs nearby, and the molding around the doorways.
Now if I can only refrain from injuring myself further, trying to get things in order.
I don't have internet access at my house until the 27th. Yikes.