Relaxation

With a book
in a tree
between two hooks
on a hammock
in my backyard
underneath the leaves

...swaying slowly in the wind

with a book
in a tree.

Childhood Memory

"You always wanted a sister!" reminded my mother over and over again. It never failed. Anything I ever wanted for my own... "You always wanted a sister!"
I remember like it was yesterday.
"Mom, if you have a boy I am going to kick him out of the house," I whined.
"No, you won't. You will love him just the same," she assured me.
"Well, we'll see," I said, echoing my mom's favorite line. "We will just have to see."

Five years later Jenessa and I shared a room upstairs and I wanted nothing more than to have a room of my very own. I hated sharing a room with my sister.
She is sooo immature. Afterall, I was eight years older than her. When we are 4 years old and 12 years old, it seemed like an eternity of time between us.

Then I saw some hope at the end of the tunnel. My dad was remodeling the garage which sat just off of the kitchen. In my mind I could hardly contain myself, for there was finally a God! I was going to get my own room! I knew that having a bedroom right off of the kitchen was highly unlikely, especially because my dad wanted a mud room for him to keep all his hunting clothes during season, which for my dad started early September. Preparation is the key for getting the big one ya know. Anyhow, my sights were set on something better, something cooler. The attic!

I wanted my own room so badly, that I would settle for the attic. The room above the garage soon to be mud/hunting room. And for me, it wouldn't be settling. For me, it would be heaven. My own room! I could hardly imagine it. My parents tried to explain it to me. I would be HOT in the summer, and COLD in the winter. Not to mention the fact that the only way up and down from the attic was by a pull string ladder. The kind you don't want to shut behind you.

Day in and day out I helped my dad up in the attic. I nailed and sanded and cleaned and picked up and held on to...pretty much any petty task that needed to be done, I was the first one to raise my hand. AFterall, this could be my room. The place that I could call my own.

I never listened to my parents when they told me that the attic wouldn't be my bedroom.
"It would be HOT in the summer , and COLD in the winter," my parents repeated, over and over again.
I didn't care though. I knew I could convince them. Nothing was going to sour my hope of independence. Not even the cold temperatures of the winter.

I put in my time helping my dad finish the mudroom and the attic above it. Soon it was taking shape and judgement day was approaching. Would all my hard work pay off? Would my dad be thankful for all the time I spent with him fixing this room in the attic? I sure hoped so. In fact, I planned on it. It wasn't very often that a little hard work didn't get rewarded. And in my case, it was a lot of hard work.

My parents sold the house in 2004 to move into my grandparents' house around the corner and up on the hill. After living in the same house my whole life, there was a lot of sorting to do. Not just in our room, but in the whole house. Jenessa and I found things in our room that we forgot we had.
Pixie sticks were still poking through the carpet.
Cabbage Patch dolls laid tucked under the bed.
We picked the stars off the ceiling and took the pictures off the wall.
We shared a lot of memories in that room. And despite the eternity of time between us. We had some silly, and some serious, talks every night before we went to bed.

And still, more than a decade later...I am still admitting...Mom knows best!

Just getting started...

I wanted to get this set up while I have access to a computer. Not much time to write now, but I will be back soon.