hangers

I went on a walk yesterday morning, and was thinking about how so many people (even strangers!) refer to our move as me being back.  Is it wonderful being back?  Bet you love being back!  Welcome back!  The list goes on.  But really guys, it seems like the only part that is the same is the weather (and yes, I do like that).  The last time I lived in Tennessee, I had been married for 9 days.  Now we're in an entirely different part of the city, we've been married for 10 years, and we have 4 kids.  It's really not the same.  I didn't expect - or want - it to be, so that's no problem.

What is kind of strange to me is how much I feel like I've forgotten.  And that leads me to hangers.  I had a teacher in high school who referred to her brain as a closet of sorts.  Each memory was a hanger.  Something happens you want to keep - anything - hang it up.  Phone numbers, faces, multiplication table, laughter, moments, maps.  Everything gets a hanger.  Something you need to get over and move on from - take that hanger down.  Throw it away and hang up something else.  When she'd forget things, she would say "Uh oh, I'm running out of hangers!"

All this to say, I want to hang up the right things.  So when I come across a good recipe, I pin it.  When I hear a song I like, I email it to myself.  If I see a book I want to read, I write it down.  Does it really matter that I have to take a list with me to the grocery these days?  Really doesn't matter.

I'd rather have hangers and hangers full of this - my favorite five.