Did you know that making your bed in the morning

makes you sleep better at night?

I didn’t believe it, but it’s true. And, not only does it make you sleep more soundly, it makes you actually want to walk into your tidy bedroom throughout the day, not rush through like the tailwind of whatever tornado hit it the first time. So make your beds and go enjoy your colorful, and slightly enhanced new life, knowing that it will look twice as inviting when you’re tired (which will be sooner, since you’ve now used more energy, and consumed less caffeine — those were my results anyway)


Today I spent a solid twenty minutes on my facebook newsfeed reading about all of my friends and their exciting excursions around the globe. From a Waffle House in Florida to the rooftops of New York and beyond, to the vineyards and ruins of Italy and to South America.  And for a second, I couldn’t stop a twinge of selfish envy at these people who are currently seeing places they’ve never been, or experiencing the high life in big cities… then I stopped dead in my tracks, I just moved to SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. I JUST got here. I know nothing of this strange environment, of it’s coffee drinking inhabitants, or of the places and cities that surround me. I am a stranger here in my own home. So I not only went away for a summer time electrical fire of awesomeness, I flipping took up everything I owned (save a few wedding gifts, some clothes, old electronics and a couple of teddy bears — thanks mom and dad), tramped across America — not once, but twice this year, set up camp in an apartment 20 minutes from the beach, all while chasing the love of my life to wherever his dream (ok, ok, his job… I didn’t marry a musician) takes him.

I’d like to also mention, that at the exact same time I was reading about places far away, I have to confess that my heart started to miss dreadfully those at home. With our big laughs, ukuleles, pianos and cheese toast, with our baking dates just for more chocolate, our heart to hearts, and our wide open Alabama, where it’s easy to get lost, as long as you know the way to the quiet pockets. Is it strange that I see that land as my own personal Terabithia? Or is it normal, that any child would miss the heart-place, seemingly, of her own discovery? Is it funny, reader, — you see, it is to me — that I would come so far on an adventure all my own, and when I think of places far away, where people are going to spend their summertimes, I think of hot, humid, sweet tea Alabama as one of the greatest destinations that any of these peers of mine are going to be for the next two months.

I will be in California, discovering the place around me. Though I speak the language, this is a foreign  land.



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