Leaving/Arriving Home

Yesterday I packed up and left my little room in the French house which I had grown to love despite the fact that I was a stone throws away from a very active railroad line and a crossroads where people loved to rev their engines at three am in the morning.

I've discovered a disturbing trend to dislike where ever I'm living-- I disliked Couch, my dorm sophomore year ((and believe me, I had great reason to dislike Couch: gagging smells permeated every hallway, mold was ever prevalent, I lived with two lovely girls in a room barely big enough for one person, and I had a third roommate with an infestation of ants)). I disliked my 'room' ((which I not so affectionately nicknamed my cell)) in the dorm in France. Once again I believe I had great reasons to dislike it-- the room was just big enough to take five steps, a board would have literally been more comfortable than my bed, and at one point I found myself wearing every coat and sweater I could fit in, boiling water in a cup just to hold in my hands because the French people didn't believe in central heating even when it was literally freezing outside.

Even though I believe I'm justified in my dislike, I consider myself a laid back person and I didn't like this troubling trend of complaining about everywhere I live. So I was quite happy to love living in the French house this semester. Sure there was the odd terrifying flying bug that made it into my room but there were also crazy comfortable couches in the living room, endless hot water in the private bathroom ((a rarity in college)), a...workable kitchen, and a budget to cook weekly meals.

As a college student I live a semi-nomadic life. Every couple of months I've been packing up and moving-- sometimes to a different country, sometimes to a different town. Now, I'm back 'home'-- rapidly becoming a relative word. I drove home yesterday for summer in 55 degree weather with driving rain. Someone needs to tell the weather it is supposed to be summer. This is Arkansas-- normally this time of year I would be dreaming of a cool breeze, or anything that wasn't suffocating humidity.

I really do love my backyard. I can sit on my couch, look out the window, and only see trees; no neighbors, just branches overlaying branches.

My backyard also is great fodder for mother's day cards ((I took this picture a year ago!)).

While I am pumped that finals are finally over, I was sad to leave Hendrix and all my friends for the summer. There are perks, of course, with summer-- I can't wait to start sewing and crafting. I have plenty ideas in mind so be sure to check back to see if I fail miserably or if I create beautiful works of art (ha!).

Thanks for reading! :)