Smells

How do you know when a place has become 'home?' When you go away for school but go to your family's house for the holidays or summer break, you catch yourself referring to both locations as 'back home.' Then, your relatives give you that slightly confused and slightly hurt expression, the one that says "this will always be your home, don't you dare get comfortable in that foreign land you call an apartment." 

So, where is your home? I always thought of home as where you grew up, where you have childhood memories, where everyone gathers for holiday and birthday celebrations. That's what I thought until I began referring to Moscow as 'back home.' 

Now as I come "home" for my second Christmas since moving away, I find myself rethinking this standpoint. What struck me the most was the smell. Everyone and every household has a smell. It's not necessarily a bad smell (in most cases) but it's distinct nonetheless. You smell it and know where you are, whose house or car you are in. There is no way to describe it than with that person's name. However, we never notice our own smell. We are so accustomed to it that our sense of smell is immune to it. It's always been, constant and subconsciously comforting.

When I came to my parent's house on Monday evening, I noticed a smell. The same smell I grew up with, the smell I never noticed because it was my home, mine. It hit me in each room, like an obnoxious Christmas candle or a heavy hand with the perfume. The only room that didn't slap me in the face was my old bedroom, which is relatively untouched while I'm gone. 

A similar thing happened as I walked down the steps and stumbled at the bottom, expecting an painstakingly long staircase like that of 6th street. This reminded me of how each family member always has a distinct way of going up and down the stairs, so distinct that you know who is coming just by the pattern of the steps creaking. 

I guess home changes when these types of things change. When you don't smell like your family. When you lose your distinct way of going up and down the steps. When the height of the counter and cupboards feels off. When the familiar and comforting smells are that of your close friends back at your new home.

Goin' on a Tree Hunt

November 18th:

Thanksgiving break is shaping up to be absolutely fantastic and it’s only been a day and half. It started Friday at 4:00 with a roomie dinner at Panda Express (yes!!!) followed by an evening with Tori. After talking for hours and cleaning spoiled milk off the patio *cough* Leaf *cough* I curled up for the most amazing 2-hour nap while Tori read her book. Soon enough it was 10:00 and time to go to Bobby’s for a Hitchcock movie. We all cozied up with all but 3 blankets I dragged from the apartment and watched Rear Window. It ended about 12:20 but none of us were ready to go home. Come on, it’s break. We decided on The Birds for round 2. I think we finally got to bed around 3:30. 

Despite our late-night adventures, I woke up at 8:15 to get ready for some Christmas tree hunting at 9:00. Our happy gang of 7 (Me, Leaf, John, Bobby, Sarah, Abi, and Emily) stopped at Tri-State for our tree permits then headed for the hills. Driving the 30 or so minutes to the National Forest reminded me of how much I miss long drives. It takes me all but 5 minutes to go to most places around Moscow. I miss long highways and singing obnoxiously to the music.

We hiked for I don’t know how long, half on a path and half shortcuts through the switchbacks. Despite the many complaints emerging from our group, I actually enjoy that type of hiking. Going uphill is much easier if you are busy fighting through bushes and low hanging tree branches. There is not much to tell about our tree hunting adventure. It was good fun, but it’s hard to explain exactly why. Nothing particularly exciting happened. It’s just one of those things that was extremely fun to experience but not fun to talk about. It’s just fond memories to think back on with the people you were with. 

After we brought our 4 trees home, we put together our miscellaneous ingredients to cook a huge breakfast. We spent the afternoon watching a combination of people play Super Mario and then watch some Parks and Rec. 

Flash forward to today (the 26th). Honestly, I know we did something else that evening, but my mind is completely blanking. The following week was full of nonstop going and going, I’ve completely crashed and burned sick on the couch. I could write a many many blog posts about Thanksgiving break adventures, but I’ll just jot down the highlights. 

1. Another giant breakfast. 2. Another Hitchcock movie, this time Rope. 3. Stargazing, where I saw the most amazing shooting star in the history of shooting stars. 4. Lots and lots of Parks and Rec. 5. Ruth and Isaac’s engagement party. 6. A good ole’ road trip to Seattle. 7. A run in with Border Patrol at the Canadian border… 8. Swimming in the Pacific (not me) and trespassing (me). 9. An amazingly fantastic Thanksgiving dinner with 25 other people. 10. Another good ole’ road trip with a detour through Portland and one of its bowling alleys/arcades, arriving home at 4:30am. 11. Another round of Christmas tree hunting, but with snow this time! Tons of snow. And many face plants into the snow. 12. Lots of Christmas decorating and paper snowflakes. 13. One last big breakfast, with just a little more Parks and Rec. 

All in all, spot on.

Hospitality

About a month or so ago I found a podcast called “HomeWise.” I stopped wasting an excessive amount of time on Youtube and Netflix long ago; I wanted to find something that was beneficial but required less energy than reading (at least for me. I’m a slow reader and my mind often wanders to other things). Finding a good podcast proved to be harder than I imagined. I wanted something that interested me and was trustworthy, not total heresy. I tried this one on Christian marriage and parenting, turned out to be super sketch. Anyway, I eventually found HomeWise. It’s a fantastic podcast by a husband and wife, discussing a large variety of topics concerning marriage, parenting, and homemaking. For any of my girl friends out there (I guess guys too maybe?) I highly recommend looking through the topics and giving it a listen. 

One of the most recent episodes I listened to was on hospitality. The main thing that stuck with me was a mistake woman often make in their view of hospitality. It’s most common for mothers (because mess, because children) to overthink the state of their house when guests are coming. Well, obviously most people do not want their house to be a pigsty when they are having people over. What I mean is beyond that. It can be easy to get swept away with the desire to have everything perfect. Perfection is not required for hospitality. Christian hospitality is sharing your life with others, not creating a false image of your life every Sunday afternoon. Barbra, we all know you don’t make your kids stay in their church clothes every afternoon. We know you don’t use your nice china or have every single inch of your kitchen spotless each day. We know accidents happen, laundry doesn’t always get put away, and food sometimes gets burned.

I think it still sounds like I’m harking on a clean house. That’s not the issue, I love a clean house. The issue is people focusing so much on creating perfection that they lose sight of the purpose of hospitality. While tidying up is nice, what is more important is extending your love and life to others, complete with the brokenness that we all share.

Thoughts Provoked by Willow Trees #2

Around this time last year (well, in about a month actually), I ventured out of my apartment alone for the first time. By first time, I mean it was the first time I went somewhere alone to do something I wanted to do without other people. That still sounds confusing, but whatever. I heard about the Arboretum from several people in the few weeks prior and had asked my friends to take me there. However, everyone was usually busy or would forget to tell me when they did find time to go. On the perfect autumn day, I finally decided to just do it by myself. So, I googled the directions, took pictures of them on my non-smart phone, and ventured out through the sketchy fraternity streets. 

To be honest, I’m sure I went with the intentions of being moody and broody. At that time, I was still adjusting to Moscow and felt pretty lonely most days. However, I did not mood nor brood. The beauty and peace I experienced there stirred my heart and soul in way that I am incapable of describing. This led to my first ever blog post, paragraphs of aimless nonsense about feelings and beauty and all kinds of mushy gushy stuff. I’m not saying I hate it, I just mean that it probably sounds like a whole bunch of nothing to other people. Yet when I read back on it, I still completely understand what I was feeling and am ever grateful that I wrote those thoughts down in my journal. I’m also ever grateful that I continued with my blog. I had never done anything like this before and figured I’d get away from it too quickly. Yet I’ve continued to be inspired by beautiful or random things and appreciate the ability to look back on my year through it. 

Since this is turning into an appreciation post, I’ll continue the trend. As I pushed the stroller through the Arboretum this morning, I was flooded with the memory of my first visit there last year. I was flooded with the same awe at God’s creation and how I could ever be so blessed to be where I am right now. I don’t just mean the Arboretum or Idaho, but so much more. I am so thankful for where I am in my life right now. Although I have days where I drag myself down to worry about things I cannot control, I am thankful, nonetheless. How lucky am I to be surrounded by a Christian community? To have support friends who push me to be better, comfort me when I need it, and call me out when I’m stupid. To have a job where I get to spend each morning with a cute little sweetheart that brings me such joy. To watch her grow in confidence and curiosity as she explores the many different parks we adventure to (I think I’ve been to each and every park or park-like place in the area). 

This life is good. God is good. I had some rough years in high school, a bad relationship, depression, a lot of self-harm, and a severe lack of faith in God. I never imagined my life would come to this. I am too quick to forget how good life is because of Him. We actually talked about this at a Ladies Talk recently, about how God never tells us in the Bible to imagine or try to predict the future, because what He has planned is so far beyond what we could possibly think of. I could never have hoped or envisioned what is today. And I must continue to remind myself of that when it comes to thinking or worrying about the future. 

I think this has turned into yet another post of mushy feelings you may not relate to, nor care about. But as we wandered through the trees this morning, I had two main thoughts. 1. My soul is singing with joy at God’s goodness and 2. The trees and many plants here create the most beautiful smell, it’s what every fall candle tries to be but utterly fails to embody. Not how you expected me to end this out, huh?