State Of Origin

Lakewood, CO.
(My old Stompin' Ground)

How much does the location at which we were born shape us? The premise of this blog is about my previous life in Colorado and my current life in the Midwest.  I, of course, have noticed enough of a difference between the two locals to dedicate this forum to these differences.  However, I have begun to ponder something..."Am I the only one who has experienced this Bittersweet struggle?" Is there anyone else out there who feels that they were shaped by the location (state, country, whatever) where they were born and is finding it hard to ease into a new existence? 


Glenwood Springs, Colorado
(the town I was born in)


Since I moved from Colorado I have always said that I never knew how much Colorado was a part of me until I left.  It has been a grieving process for me.  I'm still trying to figure out how much of the "old" me to keep and how much of me should embrace the "new" opportunities and accept that my life will never be the same.  Just as I wrote that previous sentence I realized how dramatic it sounded... What I mean is that I know that it will never be the same, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.  Change is healthy and is makes us stronger.  What I have leaned about myself is that I am very, very strong and I can get through anything. 

As I have said before, there are great things about my life now.  My life is simpler, costs less and I have learned to appreciate things that I never thought I would even know.  Part of this comes with age and being more comfortable in you own skin, but part of this comes with accepting of where we are at this exact moment. 




My New Home



Time Away

For the past two nights my son has been away from me.  Now, he's 8 months old and, prior to this weekend, had only spent one night away from me.  My husband had an alumni weekend in his hometown and I had to work, so it just worked out that my husband took him with to see the "old gang." 

I was able to get some much-needed sleep (our son typically gets up 3-4 times/night) and my husband was able to spend LOTS of quality time with our son.  This time away from my son has reminded me of two very important things: 1. Never take sleep for granted and 2. My husband is in-love with our son.  As I spoke with my husband on the phone numerous times this weekend, he was never without our son.  I could hear our son "talking" and laughing in the background and my husband was doting over him.  He took our son with him to the basketball games, out to eat, and played with him nonstop. 

More than most people, I am very aware of the "absentee father" epidemic.  There are not many things that I am sure of in life, but I can tell you this, my husband would never, ever take our son for granted, no matter what life brings us.  I am so comforted by this and know that my son will never have to know the pain that I, and so may other children, know. 

Re-purposing

Before we moved in to our house we worked for a few days to clear the overgrown areas outside.  We live on a small acreage which is surrounded by farmland.  Our house had been abandoned for a few years and was in serious need of some TLC.  As we cleaned the overgrown areas outside, we found some random items here and there.  We found old bricks, glass bottles, pop cans, tires, you name it.  One of the semi-useful items that we found were old, metal milk crates.  When we found them I put them aside and sort of forgot about them.  This weekend I rediscovered them and found a use for one in my country kitchen.  I scrubbed it with water and soap and began to reorganize my pantry.  I re-purposed this crate as an organizer for pasta, rice and other grains in the pantry.  I love this simple, rustic idea.

Re-purposed Milk Crate

When I find random items on our property I always find my imagination begin to run wild with ideas about the origins of the people that left them here.  For example...so, this place used to be a farmstead and they had dairy cows and they sold their own milk to the townsfolk and carried the milk into town in these crates, and on and on....  What is probably the truth is that when the house was abandoned, random teenagers brought these milk crates (that they found in their grandparents basements) to this unoccupied house and they put empty beer bottles on top of them and shot at the bottles while they continued to drink more beer.

Chalkboard Label