Diving Back In

I'm on sabbatical. It's pretty awesome. I can breathe a little easier. I can mull a little longer. I can do work (or not) that I just can't do during a normal semester working at a teaching institution. Awesome.

One goal I have for my sabbatical is to write (besides my major project to develop a program evaluation specific to our English education program). I have dropped out of writing for much of anything other than typical work stuff. So, I'm diving back in.

To begin, I reread all of my old posts on this blog space. How fun was that? Really fun! I like my writing self. "Hello! It's nice to see you again!" I enjoyed the reacquaintance to thoughts from long ago, laughing at my "such a different me" posts and my "not so different me" posts. I resisted the urge to edit, and I promised to dive back in.

I hope to use this space again for "whatever" writing--whatever I want to write, say, do on any particular day. I will take audience into consideration, so don't expect a lot of super personal stuff, but mainly I'm trying to revamp a habit of writing to write ("Hello to you, as well, Donald Murray & Co."). Here I go!

New home, new life

I'm moving this week. In many ways, I've already moved. The past 7ish months, life has delivered a wonderful relationship and life. But I do feel the need to recognize and honor, rather than, say, lament, for what my life has been in my 1940s apartment in Charlotte the past two years.

I'm 31, not old but no longer a youth. This spot in the world I'm moving from has proven to be the best combination of city-living, single gal independence, and just a plain fun for such a time as these past few years. I've been able to walk out my front door and do everything from sit in the park to hit my favorite Irish bar for a Guinness to a grocery run all within about a 10-minute walk. I've seen the "train" come into operation just 4-blocks away. I've experienced my first 5k where I walked to and from the finish line. I've hosted a few guests in tight quarters and just enjoyed being "me" in the city. I've truly loved my time here for almost two years and my time in Charlotte for what is going on 10 years. A place I once thought I would live, learn, and move on from within two years or so became "my town" during some blessed formative years of my life. Despite how long I've been here, I still don't consider it home. I've always struggled with the idea of "home" because I've bounced around a lot.

That's changing.

Now for my new life. My home. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to know where home is for probably the first time in my entire 31 years of life. I worried, or more wondered, really, if I would start to think twice about moving from the "stuff" of the city. No more cross-the-street jaunts to the local watering hole. No more meeting the friends after work for Live at 5 downtown. No more checking out the crowd to see who's who. Even no more Target! (Okay, I will miss Target). Now those things might still happen, but will just be much more purposefully planned and not so frequent. But the most amazing thing has happened as I've been packing this past week and meeting up with a few friends to say goodbye--I've gotten excited! I'm so ready for this move! I've gone to some of my favorite areas of town for one reason or another, shopped at my favorite stores, and eaten at my restaurants...thinking I'd be sad to see them go...but I wasn't. Almost the opposite in fact--I am almost glad to see them go. They are part of my past, my wonderful, enlightening past. I look upon them with a smile for how wonderful the "stuff" of this city has been for me the past few years, but how happy I am to be moving on to something new, different, and wonderful as well.

Home. Family. A true place to be "me" for the next years of whatever life has in store. I'm thankful, so very thankful, I am in this place. It's all happening just when it should, just as it should. Now that's the "stuff" of life! Can't help but look up and say, "Thank you."

Cory Branan's Easy

Song #11, working for me well right now. Here are the lyrics:

It was like a dream
Starring you and me
And the cool blue shade
Of a lemon tree
And I didn't think
The whole thing through
And we both know
That's hard for me to do

But it was easy
It was easy with you

Time built up my border lines
Till I'd forgotten where I laid the mines
If someone got close the whole thing blew
So sure no one would ever make it through

But it was easy
It was easy for you

Still my restless mind sometimes kicks and quakes
'Till I amaze myself with my mistakes
She said "Nobody ever walks no ocean. Nobody parts no sea.
If you really wanna know devotion, take heart in me.
And my belief in you. baby I believe in you."

And it eased me
It eased me
It eased me through

I'm walkin' here!

Given my central housing location, I have been trying to counter balance my current 100 mile daily commute to work by exercising my pedestrian right-of-way. I walk to meet friends for dinner, I take the train uptown for events, and I even walk to the grocery store. For the most part, it's been working well. I get lots of extra exercise, build muscles while hauling bulging bags of food, and enjoy the wonderful weather. The recent grand opening of the "midtown" Trader Joe's has added joy to my efforts. Not only is it closer than the Harris Teeter, but it's cheaper as well. Today, I finally made the journey to what I hoped would be my new, more easily accessible food haven.

I believe this infamous clip best captures my experience: Midnight Cowboy I'm walkin' Here (warning on the language)

As my beloved neighborhood continues to city-fy itself, much more planning and considerations need to be made or I will be cashing in on some insurance (Yeah, crosswalks don't mean jack to this car-lovin' town). Luckily, $8.43 and several "I'm walkin' here" survivals later, and I'm sitting here with a small pile of goodies for upcoming meals and this sweet addition to my reusable bag collection (which I got for free...cash in that mailer, folks!)

Though risk was involved, I'm going to keep trying out my new grocery adventures and just pray that the rest of Charlotte catches up and slows down. :)

Habits of Home

On a pretty much daily basis, I do the exact same things within the first five minutes of walking in my front door. I sling my bag into it's proper place, drop off lunch bag/dishes/coffee mug in kitchen, and completely change into "comfy clothes." I mean I can't kick off my shoes, derobe, and redress fast enough. And it hit me today how odd this might be and I thought, "Does anyone else do this? No, I'm just weird." For instance, I walked in right at 5:00 p.m. today and now, at 5:06 I am sitting on the couch writing this in full comfy gear, which I will probably wind up sleeping in. It's not enough close to dusk and I'm in pajamas! And I do it almost everyday.

That got me thinking when and where this habit of home was formed. Two words: my mother. Queen of comfort, I watched my mom do this exact same daily ritual for 30 years now. Thanks, ma! I'm a freak. But there is something about this habit that makes me feel like the day has been left behind. The stress of class or the hard work of a project all seem to melt away when I toss my clothes into the laundry basket and slither into the calm of a tattered t-shirt and stretchy pants.

So I am now wondering what habits of home others may have...

Finally looking up in the world

(From: http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ama/lowres/aman209l.jpg)

I am pretty tall for a girl. I often find myself looking down at or over people, particularly in my family. I am what one might call "the milkman's baby" because I am taller than almost all of my family members and have been so since about age eleven. Not really sure where I get, but it looks like another family member also possession some tall genes.

As most know, I have two half siblings--my 18 yr. old sister and my soon to be 14 yr. old brother. Because they are so much younger than me, I have enjoyed watching them "grow up" from the perspective of a parent more so than a sister. So when Sis was growing up, I always knew what she was going through--all the interesting and wonderful moments of girl-dom. Nothing was really unexpected, particularly her height. She was always pretty tiny and I knew she was going to be a petite thing, just like my stepmom. However, my brother has been a whole different story. Not being a boy, I didn't know what all to expect as he grew older, so it's been kind of a wonder to watch. But yesterday, as we were walking the streets of downtown Raleigh after lunch, I was really thrown for a loop.

I had to look up at him. Whoa.

Granted, I have been his measuring stick for the past few years now--having always been the tallest in the immediate family--as he inched his way up. I know he has been waiting for the moment when he could claim the title for himself, and it looks like that day has finally come. The uneven sidewalks of Raleigh did give him some help, but it is official: my brother is taller than me.

I know the measure of a man does not solely lie in his height, but it was fun to watch him "own" his knew status with confidence and a sly smile...that he now directs down at me!

Humbled in Mt. Pisgah

I am typically a person who likes to lead, but this past Thursday I gladly followed this wonderful woman as we hiked Mt. Pisgah off the Blue Ridge Parkway. She is an amazing person and is in an amazing time in her life. I just wanted to honor her here and some of the beautiful views of N.C. mountains.