This past weekend we had family and friends in town and I love the comfortable joy of sharing our home with the people we love. By home, I mean our little apartment, but also our neighborhood with all its weekend joys. My older brother and his girlfriend came up from Charlottesville and we succeeded in cramming in all the very best things to eat in a span of 12 hours. We had dinner at Founding Farmers (seriously people, it’s the best — and way better for dinner than breakfast… maybe the only time you’ll hear me say that), and then hit Ted’s for breakfast the next morning. There was also a little pregaming at the hot donut stand in Eastern Market. We wandered the stands of the flea market, browsing old prints, contemplating cool furniture that would never fit in our apartment, and taking in the colorful fall foods, meeting up with old friends who were passing through. The rest of the weekend had a lot of homework and grading, some cleaning and laundry, but we also managed to squeeze in a Sunday night dinner with friends and a chance to see Gravity, from which I am still recovering.
I just can’t stop feeling so blessed.
Blessed that one brother lives less than three hours away and the other only two metro stops.
Blessed that we can count so many good friends in out life.
Blessed to be enjoying this beautiful season.
Blessed to live in this city, in this neighborhood, on this narrow street, in this little second floor apartment with creaky plumbing and drafty windows.
It was always supposed to be temporary, this living in DC thing. I came to get my MA, James was going to work here for a couple years, and then… then life. We always just assumed, we still assume, that we would obviously move back to somewhere with yards and garages by the time we want to have kids and buy a house. Because seriously, can you even do that in a city? Yes, that’s our country selves talking. It’s not that we are having kids or buying a house anytime soon. But sometimes, sometimes I can’t help but think of how non-temporary life feels here, how wonderfully anchored we feel in our little corner of the city, in our little apartment, in our little group of beloved friends and our not-so little circle of beloved brunch spots. Sometimes, this place feels like it could be the perfect spot for a forever home. That both scares me, and warms my soul, both seems impossible and feels like it could be an option. And that, that makes me feel beyond blessed.