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Ive been reminiscing over this place. It is my second home. Ive spent almost every sumer there with my cousins. I miss lying down on my hammock for hours. I miss chasing my cousins around the house. I miss playing soccor in front. I miss eating untill bursting. I miss the hot sun blazing on my forehead and the back of my neck. I miss sounds of the cars driving over the dirt road. I miss the sounds of people playing soccer out front. I miss the smells of strong tea and coffee all throughout the house. I miss listening in on the neighbors when they argued. I miss the sounds of chicken frying. I miss my grandma. I miss my family. I miss my home.
(In retrospect, it sound like a lot of whining.)
(In retrospect, it sound like a lot of whining.)
Mar 8, 2025
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πi grew up in colorado and my grandparents lived near cheyenne mountain. their house was big and had beautiful views and a porch. when my parents and i would stay the night we slept in the basement and they had a little toddler bed for me. they had this marble coffee table that i still remember laying my hands and forehead on to feel how cool the stone was. i miss them so much and those memories are so sweet. one day iβd like to move back to colorado and buy their house :)
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π°I always stayed up late watching old movies on the tv or playing minecraft on my computer. Eventually my eyes hurt and I would sneak to the kitchen to eat cookies, at this time the house was very still and the only thing you could hear was the ticking of my grandma's clocks. It's funny cause I never heard them during the day but in the middle of the night they echoed everywhere... in the dark the familiar house felt like another world and I would wander around peeking into every room, holding my breath as if the clocks were watching over the house while my grandma slept.
In the morning I'd find her in the kitchen in her bata, the only time I ever saw her in this vulnerable state, and we would share some more cookies, the sounds of the radio and the city outside... no more ticking. I have one of her clocks in my house now but I can never hear it !
Jul 13, 2025
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I always take the winding two lane mountain road home from work, itβs 8 minutes longer and so much prettier than the interstate. I see longhorn cows, sheep, goats, fluorescent red sugar maples.
Yesterday I took a trip to visit my grandmothers grave with my mother and my 101 year old grandpa. Over a century later, he still remembers every old road and scenic back way to get around, who lived in what house, where they worked, who were friends, enemies, and lovers. He told me stories about every nook and cranny in that tiny town nestled among the Blue Ridge.
Building the church on the corner of the graveyard and using popcorn in the mortar which got so hot it popped. Exploring the flour mill with his friends which today is a miniature museum of the town history. How he and his fellow boy scouts used buckets and shovels to help fight the raging fire that spread across the mountain range. He showed me the railroad his father was a pipefitter on and the few blocks he walked to work, the corner their little dog would wait dutifully for his whistle to come running after hearing the work bell every evening. He sang me the song about catfish they used to sing while bathing in the calm river in the summer months, the same river that claimed the life of his brother in law.
I miss the city and our friends, but I know we have so much time to make our own stories in the decades to come. I feel so blessed that I have him in my life and to be living again in my hometown to hear these stories and so many others. I am so grateful that he gets to spend time with my husband and celebrate the joining of our families.
If youβre lucky enough to have a grandparent or any elder in your life, give them a call or pay them a visit and let them tell you stories, even the ones youβve heard before. Ask questions about what it was like when they were your age and tell them how much you love them.
Yesterday I took a trip to visit my grandmothers grave with my mother and my 101 year old grandpa. Over a century later, he still remembers every old road and scenic back way to get around, who lived in what house, where they worked, who were friends, enemies, and lovers. He told me stories about every nook and cranny in that tiny town nestled among the Blue Ridge.
Building the church on the corner of the graveyard and using popcorn in the mortar which got so hot it popped. Exploring the flour mill with his friends which today is a miniature museum of the town history. How he and his fellow boy scouts used buckets and shovels to help fight the raging fire that spread across the mountain range. He showed me the railroad his father was a pipefitter on and the few blocks he walked to work, the corner their little dog would wait dutifully for his whistle to come running after hearing the work bell every evening. He sang me the song about catfish they used to sing while bathing in the calm river in the summer months, the same river that claimed the life of his brother in law.
I miss the city and our friends, but I know we have so much time to make our own stories in the decades to come. I feel so blessed that I have him in my life and to be living again in my hometown to hear these stories and so many others. I am so grateful that he gets to spend time with my husband and celebrate the joining of our families.
If youβre lucky enough to have a grandparent or any elder in your life, give them a call or pay them a visit and let them tell you stories, even the ones youβve heard before. Ask questions about what it was like when they were your age and tell them how much you love them.
Nov 2, 2024
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Album is defo in my top 10 πββοΈπββοΈ. A super chill, neo-soul album perfect for the night.