A good month after they issued the notice to not keep anything outside, they are finally painting the rest of the apartment complex.
The West bedroom's windows were taped over when I got back home, and when Marx got the LF home from school, the door was all taped up and they were busy.
I guess I was lucky enough to have been born in the right place, or almost the right place. It boggles me, a bit, when people want to go somewhere else they've never been, as intensely as if it were home, and key the longing on the place, rather than the culture or people. It never used to seem so odd, but after I moved from Alaska to Arizona, one of the most intense climate shifts you can get and still be in the same country, it all started looking the same to me.
Then, I'm not tied to the land, and I adjust quickly. I wander around outside in the snow wearing boots with shorts, and stroll to school in the Arizona summer in long pants and long sleeves (black).
For me it's all about people. I want to go back home to Alaska, but equally, I want to be wherever the people I love are. I always make new friends, true, and find new loves, but... ...but the ones I already love are the ones I loved first, and I can't always take them with me.
And I want to.