My Street.

I live on a beautiful street not far from downtown Oklahoma City in the most amazing old historic neighborhood I've ever seen. The house at the top of my block is well cared for and very nice. The house on the bottom of my block is totally run-down and leaning a little to the left. The houses inbetween seem to be lined up on this perfect progressive scale... the one to the right being a little nicer than the one on the left.

Just east across Broadway there is a Wonder Bread factory that pumps the air full of thick, warm yeast smells every few days. On these days, I like to step outside and take deep breaths, exhaling with "mmmmm"s. Instantly I crave hot gooey breadrolls- the ones that are so gushy, the middle oozes out after the first yummy bite.

The days are quiet here. The porch swing is constantly swaying in the never ending breeze, and the mailman comes at 4:00. He always compliments my stamps. I like him.

The hardwood floors become a maze once Ezra falls asleep... I step over and around the old boards that I know will creak and pop under my weight. I avoid the little hallway by his door because it creaks and pops louder than anywhere else in the house and it slopes down and to the left, which is always messing with my equilibrium.

The constant sounds are clocks ticking and birds chirping... the refigerator makes a loud popping noise followed by a buzzy hum every hour or so that I never really notice during the day but that always scares me at night. It sounds like "The Little Engine That Could"... chugging and chugging away to keep my perishables cold all day long.

The lawn outside leaves much to be desired...It's mostly that grass that hurts your feet when you walk on it... but I dream of one day looking out my window to see a thick blanket of soft green grass sloping away from my house-- the kind of grass that my son could tumble around on until he was breathless and marked with green at the knees.

Even though I am so excited to buy a house, I will miss this place when we go.

I never moved when I was a kid. The house I came home to from the hospital as an infant was the same house I saw in my rear-view mirror as I pulled away with my U-haul to head off to college.

I would love for Ezra to have a place like that- a place where all his memories are grounded- but I also know that Chris and I have chosen to live a life that refuses to let itself get stagnant or too "comfy". We want adventure and excitement and life-to-the-fullest until the very end... We want a life of QUALITY. Not material quality, but rich heart quality that goes wherever we go and will never get lost in mountains of moving boxes or 'marked down for immediate sale' at local neighborhood garage sales...

A life full of that kind of stuff is worth living.



The New Kidz on the Block