I think the title says it but I’d like to give a big old content warning regarding rose colored glasses and dipping away from the real world for a few weeks. AKA my time in Vermont.
I am “home” now. Still working on what the word means as, I’m sure, a lot of us are. I’m hoping this post is going to wrap my summer in brown paper, tie it up with string and allow me to let in some of my not-favorite things.
Vermont, our used-to-be-home in a “few” photos.
This took down our bird feeder. It’s pretty young. Young enough to be scared of a Chihuahau.
This small dog is afraid of sticks but not bears. I question what is going on in his tiny head.
Beignets from the cafe
Biscuits at the farm
Sitting by the falls
A boot of beer (and a good salad)
Poolside pets
Perfect grilling
OK, actual perfect grilling (obviously local grass fed beef)
Campfires
Beach (I beach like Ken)
The official last photo of every summer is of berries that grow wild in our yard. Usually it is blackberries. This year is is black raspberries (and red too but the sentence wasn’t as pretty.)
In the real world beyond my Vermont summer, home is also where the faucet drips and you can’t get out of bed and your kids freeze over homework and you know the shortest route to the Children’s hospital. It is where you look for subscriptions to cancel and non-profits who will somehow save us from ourselves. And it is there that you feel guilty about giving money instead of time and playing games instead of work. It is where you have to say goodbye. And still you can eat raspberries. Even if you didn’t grown them.
Do you have a place that feels like home? What makes it that way?
My parents. That's home.
Beautiful photos of a beautiful life. My favorite is the beach photo with such pretty hues.
Yes I do have a place like this. A place that always feels like a homecoming ❤️