Home Would Be Nice

I have come to the realization that I will never ever get used to not spending a lot of time with my family.  Due to this realization, I dropped out of school, quit both of my jobs, and took my sorry but and kitten back to Port Washington.  Just Kidding.

However, every time I get in a funk and become extremely home sick for a wonderful home cooked dish by the best chef ever(madre), I break out pictures and videos of home and hope that will curve my momentary depression.

First thing I immediately miss about home are my parents.  Watching TV with them can be a chore with their constant chit chat about what they are watching(Think lots of PBS specials and the infamous quote in our house, “Now isn’t that interesting”), but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  It actually turns out to be a hilarious impromptu SNL skit.

The Benson's have GREAT dance moves.

The fabulous chef at work.

My Friends! Going home means a for sure ab workout because I can’t ever stop laughing.  Our time home revolves around a kitchen table, deck of cards and bottle or two of (insert with some kind of alcoholic beverage).   They are my best friends that I can always count on to tell it like it is and support me with everything I do at the same time.

Just a few of the besties.

Ha! Miss Isabel

Aunt Bee is the BEST dog anyone could ever have.  Even my avid dog-disliking-friends absolutely love Aunt Bee.  She has a long body, with a jack russel head and legs the height of a lego.  We got her when I was in 5th grade and she has been the sweetest dog ever since(ignore the chicken bone incident, the 8 times she ran away and the time she dug a hole in the carpet…she was young).

Candid shot of her running up for some lovin'

I scared her last time I was home because I came home so late the night before and she was already in bed.  The next morning I stunned her when I commanded her to stop barking.   She of course came running over, ready to accept lots of petting and return the favor with kisses.

My nephew Taylor makes home so…interesting?  He is a three year old nut-job to say the least and I absolutely LOVE him.  His mother(my sister) doesn’t necessarily appreciate the things he does, but I get a good long laugh after hearing and/or experiencing them.  He is fearless of everything I am fearful of(bugs, running too fast and falling down, yelling at authority, dirt). So when I get to hang out with him, I know I’ll get to push the limits on my fears.  I also love playing hide and go seek because he counts only the odd numbers and keeps his eyes open the whole time.  He plays by his own rules in life which I completely adore.

We collected bugs together.

Port Washington.  I miss living next to the lake (Lake Michigan) on a daily basis.  It’s so beautiful and I love driving down to see the waves or go to the beach for a walk.  Literally, think a cute town and times that by 10.  That is Port Washington.  As soon as I get into town, I drive past the lake/bluff to see the lighthouse and beach.  I have yet to find a town that rivals this picturesque place.

“K, I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” is how we hang up with each other on the phone.  We love each other I swear.  The relationship I have with my sister is hard to describe.  I call her every day.  If I don’t get 15 calls from 8 am to 11 am (un-answered of course..WHY WOULD I BE UP AT THAT TIME?!) then it is a weird day.  She has always been my second mother.  She would speak for me as a baby, fill out my ACT sign-ups/college applications, and make my hair appointments.  Going home means we get to wrestle and just say mean things to each other’s faces rather than through the phone.  So I guess not much changes between school and home but I never would miss hanging out with her while I’m in Port.

After all this nostalgic “home” talk, I really just might have to say “adios” to my final exams and head home for a good dinner.

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

-Maya Angelou

One thought on “Home Would Be Nice

  1. Pingback: Nostalgia | breakfastatvictorias

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