There comes a time, every year, where this redheaded left handed southerner turns South and just wishes for a moment she could transport herself Home.
The idea of Home is so transfixing. It’s the Past, the Future, Smells, Memories, Songs, Feelings. Tonight I’m thinking of my grandparents, of spanish moss, of pulling crab traps we released off the dock the night before. I think of flowers, of yellow cake, of walking the suspended bridges over our marshlands. I miss them so much and can’t believe they’ve been gone for over half my life.
At the end of the day, I’m happiest wrapped in a blanket sitting on a porch somewhere. Depending on time of day, perhaps with an iced tea (half and half to you southern readers) or a vodka lemonade. I’m dedicating this post to my grandparents, front porches & the South. Good Night. xoEB