Born on 34th street. Red house. Something about a tree.
I was raised in the most northwest corner of Washington state. Two parents, an older brother, copious amounts of cats and dogs over the years, an evergreen forest and a small brick house painted white and green. When it snowed the driveway became impassible, and we pulled groceries up from the street on red plastic sleds.
From there I ended up with my parents in the suburbs. It didn't snow and our driveway was flat.
I later moved to the most northwest corner of California. Lived in dorms, an apartment next to the greyhound station (where it snowed once), a blue room in a big white house, and a one bedroom for two that was practically inside of the redwood forest.
In India for 6 months I shared a bedroom and a home above an over-priced sari shop.
During the gaps there were tents, couches, floors, vans, volvos, pick up trucks, roofs, trampolines, sand and hammocks. And some of the best times. Ever.
The house I live in now has a pool. A view of the Ionian Sea. Sheep for neighbors. A crazy mandolin playing roommate. Blue couches and windowsills lined with seashells. The driveway is made of dirt and potholes. In a word, it is paradise.
7 little homes all in a row... where I'll be next? No way to know.
