Today: our normal Sunday breakfast (eggs, sausage, fried potatoes), leftover homemade pizza from last for lunch, chasing into work with Jeff for an hour to help him move around computers. artisanal_xara
were in town, so they came over in the afternoon and sat and chatted for a couple of hours, about nothing and everything all at once, and then we went and hit up our favorite Mexican place for dinner (mushroom quesadilla, nomnomnom), and then they got on their way. We're having a righteous thunderstorm.
I was thinking on Saturday, when I was doing our farmer's market run and buying our food from the same folks we've bought our food from for two years now (people who ask after Jeff when he's not with me and ask how school's going), that we're really growing roots here, that we're growing some community. It's the co-op and it's school friends and it's family and it's the farmer's market and the friends I've made through my thesis and stuff. Family's a big part of it, but it's not all of it. 20-something year old Joyce was looking for action and adventure and would have found 30-something year old Joyce kind of boring and kind of puzzling. 30-something year old Joyce is glad to be setting down roots in a place, glad to have home, glad to be growing a community. I'm committed to a two year term on the co-op board, and I didn't blink at it. I don't know if I'm explaining this very well. 20-something year old Joyce used to scratch her head and wonder how people ever stayed in the same jobs and the same towns and the same lives their whole lives. 30-something Joyce is glad she wandered off and did some living, but is starting to understand that you can do your living in one place, too - it's all in how you live it, after all, and this life with its sameness and routines and friends I've known over ten years and "our" Mexican place, is pretty damned good.