My Thought of the Day

Thought of the Day

A Home is a Home…

Everyone has a place they call home.

Whether it be in a bustling blinking city that never seems to need sleep, or out in the vast valleys of the west, nestled between the forests and mountains beneath a sea of stars, there is a place on this Earth where it feels like it was made especially for you.

Though I am currently in apartment #5 ( or is it 6?), I’m still in search of that one place where I can put my roots.

I’ve thought about it over and over, time and again, and I’ve decided I want a home that’s similar to the one I grew up in: someplace that is in the healing aura of the woods, but not too far away from the city life. A place where I can sit outside in summer nights and listen to the peepers* singing their songs, searching for their mates.

(*a small brown frog with markings to resemble tree bark and makes a loud shrill peeep peeeep noise as their mating call. They often live close to large bodies of water – ponds, marshes, and in my childhood, lakes. Get your mind out of the gutter.)

I dream of a place where I have a large corner fireplace, with a wide open mouth and space to bake bread by the fire. There’s a large plush couch nearby with a short sturdy table, capable of holding giant tea mugs and several thick books.

A wide porch wrapping around the entire house, allowing me to move around and follow the sun’s rays like a cat, or a sunflower. Several rocking chairs sit peacefully in pairs at each direction with a small table in between.

I dream of a room with several plush chairs and a couch covered with several fluffy blankets, each wall covered with books upon books from floor to ceiling.

Several bedrooms are on the second and third floors with enough room to fully stretch out in – not just physically, but mentally as well. Each room has enough space to fit two twin-sized beds, or one king-sized bed with leg room to spare.

The bathrooms (two at the minimum!) will each have the space to fit a claw-foot tub, a toilet with elbow-wide room, and a large sink. There will even be enough space for a small bench and a decent sized linen closet.

I can picture the main bedroom as a behemoth of a room, with a small reading nook in the corner, complete with a small table and a floor lamp.

I can picture the kitchen with tons of counter space, lots of storage, a large dishwasher (which will be a staple in my home), and a fridge large enough to hold an army’s worth of meals. There will definitely be space enough to have a pantry. Maybe even a second fridge. And of course the dining room with a table to seat eight people will be adjacent, complete with chairs that don’t quite match, but go with the style of the room.

The laundry room’s gonna have state-of-the-art washer and dryer, and space for not only a folding station, but for an ironing board as well. And there’s going to be enough room to have an indoor hanging space for sweaters and tops that really shouldn’t be in the dryer.

Of course when I do get a house of my own, some things will need to be compromised. I can only do so much with the actual square footage and how it’s set up. Though I do have to question how some houses I’ve seen while browsing were allowed to be built. Did the architect who built said houses actually live in one? A lot of the rooms did NOT have any functionality at all!

But whenever life gets a little too down in the dumps, or I have days where I just don’t wanna, I often think of my dream house. Because when I think of the place I’ll someday own, I feel a little bit better. And when I feel a little bit better, I can pick up where I left off. I can finish the day.

Thought of the Day

No Two 34’s are the Same I Guess…

Daily writing prompt
What were your parents doing at your age?

You ever wonder how similar or different your life is, compared to when your parents were your age? Granted, I’m sure we’ve all thought about this at least once in our lives, but to actually sit down and think retrospectively about it?

In little more than a week, I’ll be turning 34.

It’s such a wild concept – I always knew (and hoped) that I would most likely live until well into my 80’s/90’s, but seeing myself becoming an age I’ve long considered deep into adulthood, it’s absolutely mind boggling. I still have random thoughts of “I honestly didn’t expect to live this long”.

In honesty, I don’t feel like an adult at times. At least, not one who is responsible and has everything figured out.

And thinking about my age, I find myself thinking about when my parents were my age.

When my father was 34 years old, our family was living in an apartment building called The Revere House. I don’t remember a whole lot of that apartment, but I do remember having a pink fluffy rug and a white crib in my small bedroom. I also remember KitKat, our pet cat, used to climb into the crib when Mom and Dad weren’t looking and snuggle with me during my naps.

And suddenly in April of 1994, I wasn’t living in the Revere House anymore. I started living in a larger (purple, obviously) bedroom in the house my parents still own to this day. I think it wasn’t long after when we adopted our dog, Kaydee, from next door.

When my mother was 34, she was busy raising me, 6 at the time, and preparing me for the biggest milestone of my entire short life – Kindergarten. Dad was still working nights as a driver at AG, and would often take care of me during the day while Mom was at work. But with this new opportunity to send me to school, Dad would be allowed to actually sleep during the day, instead of snoozing and having the occasional hazard of me trying to play with his nose while he snored.

Today, I can’t say I have a house. Nor can I say I have a 6 year old to prepare for the next 12+ years of learning and educational opportunities. I also can’t say I have a significant other to help around the house and bring in a double-income. But I can say I’ve accomplished other feats. Feats that are just as important.

I can say I’ve accomplished two Degrees, something only a few members in my family have done. I can say I took a chance and moved several states away without prospect of a job. I’ve written two manuscripts, and working on several more. I ended up working for one of the best educational institutes in the entire world.

Just from those aspects, I can safely say my life is vastly different than my parents when they were my age.

But maybe that’s a good thing? They were 34 in the early 90’s, where boom boxes were prevalent and people were convinced a little thing called the World Wide Web wouldn’t take off. For them, it was a time of peace to raise their daughter the best way they knew how.

And for that, I am eternally grateful. They may not have known it at the time, but they prepared me for how my life was going to be when it’s my turn to be 34.

And someday, I’ll be preparing my children for when they’re 34 too. I can’t wait to see how different their 34 is from mine.

Thought of the Day

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!

Salutations everyone!

First, I want to wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

When I was a kid, I used to dislike Christmas. It wasn’t because of not getting the presents I wanted each year, though to be perfectly honest there wasn’t a whole lot I wanted. Nor was it because of the dreaded after time when I would have to go back to school and endure listening to the other kids brag about where in the Bahamas they went swimming, or how they learned to ski in the Swiss Alps.

I disliked the holidays because it all felt so annoyingly commercialized and how it all felt like a competition of who loved who more – the more gifts someone received, the more they were loved. It didn’t exactly help that sentiment when my grandmother gave my other cousins these wonderful and elaborate gifts, while I received a $5 gift card to Walmart.

What makes it so frustrating is we have several movies and stories that show how rude and corrupt the commercialization is, and how we should be believing in Peace to all and Good Will to Men. And yet, those very sentiments are buried in the constant push to buy buy buy, profit profit profit, and consume consume consume by these toy-making companies. Toys that more often than not break down and crumple within a month, two tops.

For the record, I don’t harbor any feelings of resentment or jealousy toward my cousins. Never have. I knew from a very early age that my grandmother didn’t like me – and if I’m going to be honest, I never really liked her either. Kind of hard to like someone when they call you a devil’s spawn to your face.

But in the past few years, I’ve grown to enjoy the winter festivities. I like listening to the snow fall, gently covering the ground in a fluffy warm blanket of white. I like how the following morning light filters through the dusted trees, how it uses the newly formed icicles to send colors upon colors throughout the quiet woods. I like watching kids play with the snow, excited how it’s the perfect kind of snow to make snowmen. I also love how you get to snuggle up with a cat, a blanket, and a good book, listening to the fire in the wood stove crackles and snaps.

Call it a Charlie Brown moment if you will, but Christmas, Yule, and all other holidays celebrated in this timeframe, it’s all about being with the family, holding each other close, keeping up to date with each other and praying for love, abundance, and protection over one another.

It’s about celebrating each other. Celebrating what we’ve all gone through, knowing that part of our lives is over, and getting ready to welcome in the possibilities that come with the new year.

That’s what I’ve come to celebrate for this time of year.

I wish you all a wonderful Winter Wonderland, a Very Merry Christmas, a Blessed Yule, and a Happy New Year! See you all in 2025!!

Thought of the Day

Can’t catch a Break, it Seems…

I swear either someone has put a hex on me, or the world really does not want to see me move forward in life.

Monday morning was as normal as any other. I woke up and struggled to emerge from my warm blankets, dressed myself while in a sleepy stupor, and dragged myself down the stairs to breakfast before I left for work.

The car was even working normally, too. No lights were on, no noise other than the beautiful gentle hum of my perfectly working engine, and not even a tire pressure light (the bane of my existence). I parked in the normal areas of the parking garage a short walking distance from my office and grabbed my backpack to start another work week.

Who would have thought the vehicle gods would look upon my good mood and decide to make it rain?

The moment I get into the car and turn it on, the check engine light, the general warning light, and the VSA lights all turn on, and the car begins to rock back and forth like a cat threatening to puke on the carpet.

I cannot even begin to describe the wave of anger and frustration coursing through me. I have had that car effectively worked on and off with the mechanic for the last two years. She has a 2-year-old engine put in, a brand-new transmission put in just a few months ago, all four tires either new or less than a year old, and brand new brakes. If I had to guess, I would say I’ve put at least $10k into her since February of ’22. The ONLY thing that is ‘original’ on that car is the frame and paint job. If you think about it, she’s really a ’22 vehicle with classic ’07 vibes.

I honestly don’t know how this could have happened.

I’m sure no one tried to put something in the gas tank – the flap covering the cap locks when the car is locked. Can’t open the hood without pulling the inside lever either. The only way someone could get into the engine is to go beneath, and you’re looking at a tight squeeze without a jack.

So how in Earth’s good green acres did that car go from running beautifully in the morning, sitting in the same spot all day, to threatening to fall apart like dried Play-Doh in the evening?

I’m honestly at my wit’s end. Whenever it seems like I’m able to save money, something happens to that car to take every single cent away.

“Welcome to the ‘Adult-Club’, Leah.” I can hear someone saying.

No, this is not an ‘Adult-Club’ thing. An ‘Adult-Club’ thing is having the occasional car issue, but not breaking the bank. Having major internal work done on the car every other season, thus consistently draining what little savings I have to nil, is not.

I’m just so frustrated that the problems aren’t done. I could trade her in, but I don’t want to. Call me a sentimental fool, but that SUV has been through a lot with me.

That SUV saw me through one of the biggest changes in my life: moving out of Maine and into Massachusetts. She helped me job-hop until I landed in MIT. She saw me through 5 different apartments and she always brought me home in one piece. On the few times she did break down on me, she did so in a way that felt like she cared about my safety and well-being. Laugh all you want, but I am convinced that ol’ girl has a soul.

How can I give up on her just yet? I’m convinced I still have at least two more years left in her. I want to at least see her turn 20. If I can get her there, then I will be satisfied.

So keep your fingers crossed for me and pray it’s only a $100 or less fix.

Thought of the Day

Keep Calm and Keep Pushing Forward…

Hey everyone,

It’s been a while, so I’ll just gloss over a few things that have happened since my last posting. (I think it was back in May??? Yeesh, how time flies!)

I moved… again. I won’t go into a whole lot of details here, but just know that the last place I was living in was detrimental to my mental health, my physical health, and my wallet. Note to self, never rent an apartment that has everything electrical – lights, heating, etc.; It’ll only eat through my savings account like a swarm of locusts through a harvest. Plus, it doesn’t help when the landlord refuses to accept payment other than checks and doesn’t deposit on a regular basis.

I now live in an apartment in Somerville with four other people, but the good news is everyone gets their own bathrooms. I don’t have to share 🥰. The bad news, pets aren’t allowed unless I pay an extra $50 a month (unless they are registered as an ESA – which Spooky is). However, I have to have permissions from all of my roommates in order to have her. One of them is proving…difficult. So until I can get express approval from everyone, Spooky has to stay with my parents. They’re okay with it, but it can be hard at times, especially when Spooky is being a bit of a bully.

Not much else has happened, except for the various holidays and the election this week. Halloween/All Hallow’s Eve/Samhain was nice. Got to see a lot of trick-or-treaters, which was especially heart-warming! And speaking of warming, it was an unusually warm night. Even now it’s 64 degrees outside. Unusually warm for November. Makes me nervous for our ecosystem.

Speaking of November, I wanted to talk a little about this past Tuesday.

It was…a hard pill to swallow.

I went to bed after voting that night, thinking that things would be fine. I felt I wouldn’t need to worry about my rights as a woman being in danger, that people would be capable of seeing reason. Or at least feel enough to set aside their differences and vote to progress our country into the future. But that didn’t happen. Wednesday morning, I found there are those who would rather lord a say over my body than give me choice. There are those who would rather judge, and condemn, others based on their looks, rather than by their character. There are those who would rather dictate how others should love, than look into their own hearts and try to heal their own pains.

I was sad, but held it together Wednesday morning. That is, until I read an email from my mother, apologizing for the actions and severity of her generation. My boss walked in on me crying and trying so hard to wipe away the tears, only to have more replace them. She was not the only one who consoled me, nor was she the only one who shared my grief and fears for the future.

My future, and her own child’s future.

It was a quiet and solemn day in the office. Then again, so far this week it’s been quiet and solemn. I suspect it will for a while.

But I suppose that is the will of nature and life. Sometimes progress wins, and sometimes regression wins.

There’s a lot of things I would like to say, but I know I can’t. Not yet, at least. Because I know there are those who would love to take my words, twist them into something more heinous and cruel, and use them to make my life a living miserable hell.

But what I can say is this: This may seem like a big setback in our world, but it doesn’t have to be. That…man and his little crew of degenerates and progress-haters, they’re only a small portion of this country. They may act like they’re gods, but they aren’t. They’re still human. They bleed red just like the rest of us.

How quickly these elected officials forget that when they are voted into those positions, they can be voted out. How quickly they forget that the very purpose, the very existence, of those positions they covet, are solely to serve the masses. Us.

Let’s help remind them of what it truly means to hold such positions.

So yes, let’s take the time to grieve our pains and to lick our wounds. Let us take the time to rest, to take care of our selves, and to take deep breaths.

This is NOT the time to panic. Things are not always as dark as they appear to be.

My grandparents always used to tell me, whether it was baking a cake or learning math, panicking will only get you deeper into trouble. Take a step back, take deep breaths, keep calm, and keep pushing forward. A cake can always be saved, and a math problem can always be solved.

We can get through this. We will get through this.

Sometimes you have to draw the arrow back in order to make it fly forward.