memory lane

As usual, it was a Sunday and Chase and I were antsy in our pantsies. Hah, cute visual, I know. Thanks to my mom for her many "common phrases" that I never thought I would say, oops guess I'm turning into her ;)! After church, per tradition, we got into our cozies. Usually consisting of this lovely sea green number for me with a good pair of slippers, and this sweater for Chase. He found it appropriate to wear shorts despite all the snow, silly boy. Then we planned our adventure. Since it was Sunday and all, certain qualifications had to be met. Low key, relaxing, free, and just the two of us. So on a drive we went!

I grew up just minutes from the lake and a few more minutes from some of the most beautiful orchards ever. Growing up I took these things for granted, thinking we lived in the boonies (which is sort of true). I simply never realized how pretty the country was until I left it. Dead or in bloom, there is always a unique and almost ethereal beauty to it. It took me moving away to an island to look at things with a new pair of eyes. My Idaho goggles were gone and in poured the appreciation. I'm grateful for that.

Something I love about growing up in the country is how quiet it is. I stood in the middle of that road for minutes and even laid down, and not a car drove past. All I heard was the whistling of the wind in my ears. It was in that moment that memories came flooding back to me. I remembered going on drives through those exact orchards in high school with the Used blaring way too loud, as boys in the back seat threw oranges out the windows to watch them explode (I know, so random). I remembered climbing Lizard Butte with my family and eating jerky at the top. I remembered my friends who worked at that pretty winery and the family that owned the surrounding orchards, wondering what they were up to now. I remembered sitting on those cement steps at Lake Lowell, watching our dog Hog run around looking for things to sniff, avoiding the water at all costs (he had a lethal fear). So many things I remember, that have made me "me". And for that home to me will always be Caldwell, Idaho . . . where I grew up :).