Tuesday September 7, 2004

There is something oddly soothing about hanging up clean laundry on our clothesline.  The air is hot but the damp clothes are cool over my shoulders.  The yard is unmanicured and unruly and I can enjoy a rare moment of loving my home for being home, despite its imperfections.  Clean laundry in the sunlight of a backyard feels wholesome and fresh, amidst the cracked asphalt and the golden-dried weeds.  I am looking forward to returning to Stanford, and I have been so busy packing and making last-minute visits and errands that I haven’t stopped to appreciate that I am leaving home.  For home it is, disordered and eclectic though it may be.  I am thankful to have such a home to return to.

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