My life took a drastic turn when I was in fifth grade. It was a turn my father saw coming and knew needed to happen. We left Maine and moved to Pennsylvania. Packed up all our stuff. Said goodbye to our (two) friends, to most of my mother's family (we took Grammy with us), and to our home. South we headed.
My dad felt we would all have more opportunities down here. And I tend to agree with him. Not that our professions couldn't have been done up there, but there's just more here. More people. More schools. More entertainment. More businesses. Our little section of Maine was wonderful and beautiful and many many things, just not right for us at that age and at that time. The sheer amount of time we spent in the car to get anywhere was ridiculous. And WHY haven't they invented teleporting yet!? I digress. So we moved to PA. Where there was a movie theater within an hour's drive. Within a half hour's drive. Another perk? We were much closer to my father's family here too. So that was also great.
I keep trying to get my parents to buy a summer home up there, because I do miss it. Sometimes when I smell freshly cut grass or hear a church bell tolling I am right back on the water in Maine. Strange triggers I know but they are there just the same. How wonderful that would be? To take my children up there every summer and let them count to three a zillion times before they are brave enough to jump into that frigid water? To rake blueberries? To take a sailboat out and explore? I'm thinking this one house right on the water would be just about right (yes it belongs to someone in our extended family but I loveeee it):
Tomorrow's topic, linking up to my favorite shops.
