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Isn't it pretty?

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Unpacking Home

My house is beginning to become a home. I live in the main floor of a very cute little house, which is partially pink and partially white, with a dark brown roof. I decided sometime last week that a house with that much character needed a name. So when I was at a family Friday night and their daughter told me that I live in "the ice cream house" I decided that she was absolutely right, and the house's new name became "The Neopolitan." (For those who don't know, Neopolitan is the ice cream flavor that is strawberry, vanilla and chocolate all in one container.) So now my house feels loved and I feel like it belongs to me a bit more. The other big development in my journey towards making my apartment my home was the reunion between myself and my books. Last night I set up my bookshelf and methodically unpacked my boxes of books, going through each one. I can't tell you how happy I was to see some of them. Some of my books take me back to my childhood. The Secret Garden, Where the Sidewalk Ends, The Velveteen Rabbit, Hans Christian Andersen Tales, all copies I have had since I was little, some of them pretty dog-eared at this point, having been read over and over throughout the years. I was reunited with what I call my nostalgia books, the ones I read over and over when I was a bit older that have stuck in my mind, and that I never could bring myself to get rid of. Things like Anne of Green Gables, Playing Beatie Bow, Sati and Little Women. I also found my classics that I am looking forward to reading - A Tale of Two Cities, Wuthering Heights, Walden and Watership Down. Finally, I found my Jewish books. My Stone Chumash, my machzorim, Pirkei Avos and many others. I can't tell you how much I had been missing my books. Reading has been such a huge part of my entire life; I don't know how people go to bed without a book at their side. I think back to times in my life and realize how the books I was reading at the time thread their way through my memories. Lots of Saturdays growing up were spent filled with hours spent at the library, checking out stacks of books and the anticipation of being read to sleep at night. Getting those books out of boxes and onto a shelf made me so happy. It is really starting to feel like home.


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