Some snaps from our trip to Iowa this past Thanksgiving.
We were delayed an entire day because of the snow storm. This was a real test of patience and our ability to work as a team -- scrambling around the O'hare Airport was not very fun (especially after sitting on a hot airplane for two hours without any water), but we managed. When we finally got to Iowa, the snow was pretty, but brief. It melted in two days, but we enjoyed every moment of it; sledding, wandering the golf course and watching the geese.
As always, home is a lot of things, but the Iowa sunsets never cease to make me smile.
**A few remaining snaps from the recent trip home.
**I think most people would agree that this past winter was long and a bit dreadful. While I enjoyed the pretty snow, I was ready for warmer months and bits of color instead of the grayscale mornings.After a period of blue, a friend cheered me up by reminding me that the harsh winter was going to bring a bright spring and summer. That the earth would be fertile, retaining the water from its melted snow.She was right.June in Iowa was particularly bright; ditches filled with flowers and emerald green everywhere.**pictured: trails from the Maquoketa Caves, late nights playing with sparklers, morning light from the trees in my childhood home, ditch flowers, and the open roads of Iowa.not pictured: the great conversations had on those trails (this girl is fabulous), pretending I was a wizard (I am just NOW reading the Harry Potter series [10+ years late - I know] and I freaking LOVE them - that is all!), the many looks of confused drivers passing by while I hung out in the ditch crouching down to take photos, face-timing on the side of the road to share a beautiful sunset and just how badly I wanted to reach through the phone for a kiss, and the nice man that gave me permission to enter the bean field so I could get a better shot of the reminders of love.Iowa, you will always have a bit of my ♥.
Some photos from Thanksgiving in Iowa. The open roads of Iowa. Something about them always clears my mind.FamilyKnitting lessons!Morning light from my bedroom window.My uncle's gardening notes - my favorite, "~ ten onions are missing" [what a lucky rabbit!]One of my best friend's from high school.This cross is also a cell phone tower.Desserts from the Motley Cow.My adorable friend Calee and her amazing boyfriend. Aren't they lovely!Driving on Bloomington street in Iowa City!Corn bins need Christmas love too.Main street in my hometownHow I spent my evenings. Wine and typing. **There's lots to write around the topic of home. I have lots. of. thoughts. But I've recognized that you can't really run away from the place where it all starts.
// these are the things that make up home.i♥wa.(the first shot is not iowa, but the detroit airport). i hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving filled with lots of ♥.
5:43 pm EST/4:43 pm CSTI am in Iowa. Right now I am sitting at Cup of Joe with reliable internet and alternating sips of hot cider and cold water. I feel the slight pulse of a headache in my temples....the most wonderful thing just happened. i realized i had more time than i thought! 5:43 was speeding towards 6:00 and I have dinner plans at 6:30, which meant leaving in 15 minutes for a 30 minute drive, but then the glorious thing happened while looking at my phone to see what things I hadn't finished from the list. I realized was actually 4:44 CST.Phew. More water. More breath. More of this.There's something about being home that always makes me slightly anxious - or something - I can't put my finger on it. In the past five years, I've probably spent a cumulative total of one week at my house. The childhood one. The one where you can probably find a dried pile of cat puke from 15 years ago (yes, really). The one with memories of a kitchen that are too hard to think about, but that always flash through the brain upon entering the door. Too many t-h-i-n-g-s from too many years passed. The thing about those approximate seven days, is that whenever I've returned/return to the place I now call home (from 88th Street, 94 Street, 135 Street, to my favorite place with the two cats and the occasional fresh cat puke for they absolutely hate their lysine-mixed wet food) wishing I'd spent just a little longer at the childhood home. Coming home is an instant reminder of where you're from, what you are from. What parts you decided to leave behind and what parts are still lingering in the tiniest bits of the soul. Or perhaps they aren't tiny at all, because this sudden collision of thoughts happens and you realize that these new thoughts and old memories are everything that define you and make you, well you. You are one with all of it. The small girl, who grew up way too fast and who was actually rather lonely despite being surrounded by cats is now a woman with the curious heart of a child, still loving cats and people, but still struggles with moments of loneliness despite being surrounded with loved ones and having cracked the tough nut that is self-love. But the shell has been cracked and it's constantly learning new things. I am learning new things; about myself, the world, and how I want to be. In this moment, with past and present colliding, I am thankful for all of it. I am thankful for friends, family, chaos, cats, art, expression, technology, other people's writing, and so much more.I am thankful and excited for future moments and new dreams.I am just thankful.....and on this trip home, I am spending justabit more time at the childhood house.
it was a good trip home. a painting was created with dandeena and the dysart streets were quiet. the ditches were filled with flowers and i stopped to appreciate love on the side of a barn (near albion, iowa). the wedding was perfect and the friends were (overly) reminded of my love for them. quality time was spent with mary while driving for my lost items... a charger, a ring (thank you). and i was reminded to slow down while driving (thank you mr. police man for not giving me a ticket!). a long walk through george wyth (with a random chair in the river) made me realize just how smart aj has become. the best malia kofta (seriously, i've tried many) was consumed at masala in iowa city and i hung out with the pie man foraging for berries and walking through tall grass. corn was everywhere and a rabbit greeted me at my childhood home. i'm not sure i fully understand the tears that fell the night. hard sobs and gulps for air. it was overwhelmi