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Last week, when E linked up to my post on emyselfandi, I got over 300 hits. This is about 4 times what my traffic typically is. So, for my first confession, that is the main reason why I’m linking up today. That was such an ego boost for my little blog here!
I’m knitting a scarf for me. I feel a little bit guilty about it, because I’m pregnant and so many of my friends are pregnant. I should be knitting baby stuff, right? I knit during my downtime at work. My co-workers will ask me what I’m making, and I say “A scarf for me, BUT as soon as I finish it, I’m going to start knitting for Baby.” This is true, but I’m always very quick to mention what I’m going to knit next to avoid any judgmental eyes (that would probably never come).
I miss Knoxville. So does Gregg. I idealized moving away, now I idealize moving back. We like it here on the Eastern Shore (more and more-its rhyme time, apparently). We love our house and our farm, and I love my job (once I drive the hour to get there). But, we miss home and the people there.
We got a new dog. Her name is Aspen. She is enormous. More than 100 pounds of Great Pyranees? Probably so. This is a confession, because she makes 5 pets for us. But! She’s a working girl. Gregg got her to keep predators away from…
these three (hopefully) pregnant girls…
as well as these mama hens. I think she’s doing a good job because she spends all night barking.
Last confession, I don’t really like turkey that much. Happy Thanksgiving!
My high school reunion is coming up. Is it terrible that I don’t want to go? Okay, I’m sure I’m not the only one that feels like this. AND I’d like to think that if I was closer than 10 hours away from my hometown I would go. Actually, come to think of it, I definitely would go if for no other reason than it is being held in the Sunsphere. I love that place.
Weirdly, I love the Sunsphere almost as much as a I loved high school. I’m kind of surprised at myself. If I loved high school so much, why wouldn’t I want to go to my reunion? I can think of a few reasons: Disappointment, Awkwardness, Comparison, Pressure. Not sure where all these come from, but there they are. Looming over every high school reunion that’s ever taken place.
Not to be totally Negative Nancy, I ran into a bunch of my high school friends at Joe’s wedding several weekends ago in Knoxville. To me, it was an ideal substitute for a reunion. There were a large number of my high school friends in attendance at both the rehearsal dinner and the ceremony. I had some great conversations with friends that I hadn’t talked to in years. And it wasn’t awkward.
Knoxville still feels like home to us. After living in a handful of different cities and states, coming back to Knoxville feels like home. Our families and friends are there. Our church is there. Friends that we’ve had for years, and other friends that, even if we haven’t known them for very long, they are forever friends.
Making friends in a new place is like starting from scratch. There are no connections, no common ground, no friends in common.
Last week we took a road trip that ended in Knoxville. Our friend and matchmaker, Joe, got married to a lovely girl that I’ve known since middle school. I love that connectivity. We stopped in the Outer Banks for me to frolic on the beach, in Boone to hug Ruby (and Meg and Tim), and in the mountains for Gregg to frolic in the Smokies. (Picturing Gregg frolicking is really funny to me.)
We went home to Knoxville, and came back home, to the Eastern Shore. Not really sure where home is. Maybe its good to have more than one?
A the end of our trip, we were unloading our car after our 10 hour road trip across Virginia when we noticed a cute letter neatly tied to our door. It was from our neighbor inviting us over for drinks. Also, this week I have my first book club gathering, and Gregg is meeting with a friend to talk sheep, cows, and milk-shares. Several nice little gifts awaited us upon our return to the Shore.
I spent the weekend hanging up pictures on the walls in our house. I realized that our house is like a mini-tribute to the local artists of Knoxville. See for yourself. I apologize for the cookedness/blurriness/poor lighting of the photos.
We love and miss you, Knoxville.