Tuesday, October 18, 2011

it's always where i'm not

I've been feeling particularly nostalgic (read: homesick) this fall. A few weeks ago I had two pumpkin chocolate chip loaves in the oven (one regular, one gluten-free), and if I'd taken a nap while they were baking, I might have woken up thinking it was Thanksgiving at my parents' house. I wanted a cool breeze and crunchy leaves, but instead I opened a window to get some air flowing in the house, stuffy from the 80+ degree weather outside.

Home is a finicky idea. It wants everything that's good and comforting and heartbreaking, all history and future, the fullness of desire all stuffed into one place that is everywhere and everyone all at once. Mine demands snow and palm trees, my nieces and nephews along with my new goddaughter, turkey tetrazzini and a Tawainese feast.

And it is always where I'm not. 

Placating the senses might just stave off the irrational booking of plane flights, so here's my plan:

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