unplanted

what it’s all about

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I’m still not getting in to this whole Christmas thing. It’s just not in me this year. I’m much more content to spend time with my nephews, teach them what I’m learing about Taoism, how to make scrambled eggs and what it’s like to live in a city (they got a kick out of drinking what was left of the Seattle tap water I had in my bottle when I got here–very endearing.) They’re both teenagers–14 and 16 and I’m finding that rather than growing apart, we three are becoming closer each year. They tell me things about their lives that I’d expected they’d keep secret, or just not want to talk about with yet another adult. But they tend to confide in me. It’s fun to be the good aunt. I really miss hanging out with them. Jamie and I can keep up a round of nonsensical banter for hours and Scotty is genuinly interested in nearly everything I can share with him. I’d love to bring them out to Seattle for a while, show them the city and watch them gaze at the sheer size of everything. One day…

Things are going fine here. I survived a bout of Christmas shopping yesterday–barely. Stacey and I fought our ways through the mall (really, she meandered; I fought.) And even though I’d planned on not exchanging gifts this year, I found myself making some unexpected purchases which will, no doubt, throw me for another financial loop. I wish quite badly that I could peel myself away from this capitalistic routine and just come out here to do the things I enjoy–hanging out, cooking for everyone (there’s a 40 garlic chicken in the oven and no-bake cookies to be made later), taking a good long look at the place I came from and pondering how it is that I came to get away from this place and become who I am, where I am.

Each year I feel myself growing further away from this place, more upset with the people here, the slow pace, the lack of change. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone but me. Then again, there are quite a few things that bother me lately.

Oh–a complete aside: Ever notice how similar blogging is to Doogie Howser’s journal? Just a thought.

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Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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