Tuesday

This morning dove comes and visits every morning at 7:15.

And then another dove comes along and they hang out for awhile on my balcony.
It's really sweet.

Not as sweet as when I used to listen to the roosters when I lived in Salem, though.
I miss visiting the horses behind my apartment there. I would bring a blanket and my ipod and something to snack on and lay in the sun, watching the horses do their thing while the roosters danced around their hooves. I wish I would have taken video of that...the horses always made me smile. One of them did a series of steps from time to time and I loved it.

But that's about all I miss about Salem. It was a pretty depressing town, but I didn't know it at the time. But OH do I ever know it now. I always feel like there is a raincloud over my head when I stroll through that area.

I'm going home on Wednesday night. I can't wait. Salem is not home...Ingleside is.
I love going home, to the house I grew up in. I lived there my entire life, since I was about 1 or maybe 2. My parent's house always seemed perfect in my mind. It's a cute Capecod on a quiet dead end street, with a big yard that backs up to a swamp and woods. A creek flows through to the Chain O' Lakes about 200 steps away from their front door. There are train tracks across the street that lead to Union Station in downtown Chicago. I miss listening to the train. My bedroom faced the train tracks and every night the freight trains would roll by and my jewelry box drawer pulls would clatter. My bed would shake, in a calming way. Sometimes my change jar would vibrate right off my dresser top and that always scared the shit out of me, especially when it was 2 AM. My friends were always on edge at my parent's house because they thought the freight train was an earthquake or tornado. That always made me laugh.

So then last night I was thinking about my parent's house and where it is and I realized that if I hadn't grown up in that house, I would probably be really freaked out to be there alone. It's the perfect setting for a murder mystery novel.

Yet every time I stay there, I feel so at ease. If somebody knocks on the door, I'm quick to run and see who it is and don't even think of anything bad. But where I live now, I pretty much go through freakout mode when somebody knocks. Not as bad as when I was in Salem, thankfully. I guess it's because I live in an apartment and can't see who it is unless I go all the way to the door, at which point I'd be pretty vulnerable. Maybe I just worry too much. Or maybe it's because nobody knows where I live so why would anybody be knocking?

I can't wait till we have a house to call home...hopefully that will happen sometime between August and October. Fingers crossed. Then I will be able to put my overflowing inspiration folder to good use since I will be able to change things and make things my own. I can't wait for that.
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A couple weeks ago my mom was in town and we went thrifting.
I came across this awesome vintage enamel Copco teapot for $3.

One of my best finds yet.

So far I've used this pot to boil water 2 times every morning since I got the thing.
I'm up to like 4-5 cups of coffee or tea a day...which I can't say I'm entirely proud of.
I usually start the day off at 6:40 with 2 cups of coffee, and then I decide between coffee and tea to join my thermos for the work day.
Today I think I'm going to do coffee...it's rainy and dreary out and I need something rich and vibrant to keep me shuffling along till 8:00 tonight, which is when I get off.

I should get on that...

If you are bored, scroll down to my previous post and try that assessment thing. It's really interesting.