Last day of May.

I went for a walk last night to stretch my legs after a long afternoon spent in the car. After a weekend exploring new streets, it felt like a sweet indulgence to recycle familiar routes and keep myself company. This neighborhood is the first place I’ve ever felt completely at home—with its joyously unmatched houses, the bold well-loved cats who saunter down the sidewalks, the front-porch wine drinkers, the peonies bowing their heavy heads, the straight-backed and serene Lotuses in the park, the teasingly unfinished chalk creations—pink and purple sharks with impressively outfitted jaws and no fins, outlines of small bodies missing fingers and necks. I felt wonder at the particular angle of light over the rooftops and disbelief at the news. And I felt gratitude, too, for belonging to this space. I will miss it desperately when we move across town in the fall (everyone I've told says "you're renting a whole house? Upgrade!" I don't think it's a fair trade-off) or if we move elsewhere earlier...


Related:
Bernd has a shot at a position with Google in Austin, Texas. I can honestly say that Texas would sit right near the bottom of the list of states I’d happily call home… Couldn’t the position be in Chicago or Washington or Oregon or Minneapolis or DC?












Status updates on a yard sale. Closing. Closing. Closed.