Nostalgia

I went to the mountains last night with some of the members of my family, spent the evening playing Trivial Pursuit with my brother, his awesome girlfriend and one of my best friends from college. Woke up and ate Golden Grahams, a cereal that I haven't had in years (it was delicious), and watched Toy Story 3 with my dad while sitting underneath my new heated blanket. The air was cool, but not too cold, and when I was moving between the house and my car to load more suitcases, I ran down the stairs to the house -- one foot on each long step, running until I reached a complete stop and almost fell over at the bottom -- like I've done one hundred (or more) times in my life.

The house changes, mutates each time I go, each time I sleep on a different couch or bed. I've never noticed, until now -- when I have my own home, when I would love to buy a home -- how charming the house is, how lovely it would be for entertaining guests. And how well laughter carries out of it, across walls and down the pipes into the downstairs bedrooms.

Few houses come into your life and stay there, holding tiny pieces of your memory and personality. Stepping into them is like falling through time, settling in and smiling. Hitting a "reset" button. Sometimes, life just needs a "reset" button.