Going Home.

I was born in Bennington, Vermont in 1988. My family, which consisted at that time of my Mother, Father and younger Brother, moved swiftly to Rutland, Vermont. We lived there until the summer before I turned nine. My parents separated that summer and being that my entire extended family on both my Mother and Fathers side lived in New Jersey that is where my Brother and I were headed with my Mom. My Father moved around to a few different places in Vermont before finally settling in Brattleboro, the place I would spend many warm New England summers well into my teen years until I eventually started getting distracted by friends, going to the beach everyday and working odd jobs.

My Brother. On our way home. (Photo by me)

When my Mom, Brother and I moved to New Jersey we rented a little condo with my Aunt where I shared a room with my Mom. It was a tight squeeze but it was comfortable. Eventually, we moved out into a little bigger, little nicer place when I was about to go into eighth grade. This house became the one place that I have lived in the longest (11 or 12 years). It is where the fights, the sneaking out, the laughing, the lazy days, the holidays, the skipping school, the everything happened.

Two weeks ago was my first time I went home to visit my Mom since she sold that house. She sold it so her and her new husband could move in together and so that their collective three kids could all have beds when they came to stay. When I went down to New Jersey it was my first time not going home. I kept getting asked if I was sad, and if I would miss that place I called my home, and to be honest at first I did feel a little sad, or maybe a little nostalgic about it or maybe I felt like I was losing something, but I wasn't sure what.

My Mother's flowers. (Photo by me)

Since I have never had one place, one house, one room with all of my things, I quickly got past those feelings. I learned long ago that a house is just a place. A roof over your head, doors to lock out the bad guys, windows to let the sun in at the most uniquely perfect angles so it shapes those piles of light on the floor so you can curl up like a cat in the middle of winter. I can not count on one hand all the places I've called home, for a week, for months, for years.

When I moved out to go to college I packed everything I owned into a car and to this day wherever I am, wherever I can love and laugh with special people is where I can call my home. Home is a collection of memories, the memories you will never forget when you leave. Home is your family sitting around any table in any place talking and laughing. It is where your friends are, the new ones and the old ones. All of those things might correlate with a specific place but at the same exact time you must remember, those things are very independent from each other, you can have a home without a specific place.

En route to New Jersey. (Photo by me)

It would have been easy to point a finger at my parents and blame them for not giving me something so many other people have, but the way I see it is that they gave me something so unique and special that I truly would never have found on my own.Am I happy that I have never had that place, the home that is talked about in all great stories, and seen on the big screen? I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea. This is all that I have ever known. I can say that sometimes I long for that particular sense of security, or comfort, and I wonder what it would be like, but I wonder to no avail. I will never have those questions answered. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to see different places in ways that so many people can't. I have had the opportunity to live the day to day in a ridiculous variety of places, to meet all sorts of people, to find those piles of light coming in from so many different windows, and to have doors not just to lock out the bad guys, but also to let so many different people in.

 

To Hold You Over:

I am going to keep this short and sweet. And by that I mean this post will most definitely take a few days for me to write for some reason that is far beyond my comprehension. In the end, that is my own burden to carry.  

Dead hydrangea on the beach in Point Judith, RI (photo by me).

Anyway... I won't make excuses for the fact that I haven't posted anything for so long because I really have no excuses. I have been acting like the month of February (hibernating, hiding under blankets because the world is too cold, not being sick but feeling like you should be, ignoring all human life unless forced , saying you will read a book and then do anything that is less productive... ect), but I am making strives little by little to dig my way back out of the little cave I dug underneath my apartment. February is always the hardest month for me. The joys of winter have been run their course and frankly I am sick of snow days from work and having to sit in my freezing car to wait for it to heat up and thaw my hands enough for me to grip the steering wheel. I know that March is just around the corner but it still feels like a lifetime away, like I will have to get in a space ship and travel for light years to another solar system just to find that special warmth again. I am desperate for that sweet smell of spring and the slow drips from the rooftops and tree branches beginning their long awaited thaw.  
Alas, spring has not yet found us, therefore we will muscle through it yet again. Since I am assuming that we are all on the same exact page here (because how could we not be), I am going to post links to all sorts of things that are keeping my head up. 
I have been reading the book The Freedom Manifesto By Tom Hodgkinson. He founded the website The Idler, which I find to be perfect reading because of my short attention span lately and since I have been trying to work my way out of this winter gloom this is definitely helpful. I also tend to always turn towards the poetry of Martin Espada no matter my mood or the season he is perfect for every occasion. 

Spring in Bristol, RI (photo by me).

Since I have the tendency to listen to music based on the season the last few weeks my playlist has been swarmed with Bonnie "Prince" Billy and Scout Niblett, for some reason they sound like February to me. 
Since I promised to keep this short and sweet I will conclude with this:
Spring is almost here. 

And.... We're off....!?!

Well here we are... The beginning of 2014. After attempting to start this blog a few different times and failing probably (definitely) due to the holiday distractions, complaining about the holiday distractions and working, I am finally ready to give this another shot. This is the beginning of The Folk House.

We will start with me... My name: Sarah.

Providence, RI (photo by me). 

I am 25 and am currently residing in Providence, RI. I moved to Rhode Island after living in Brattleboro, VT and before that it was Keene, NH when I was attending college and before that it was Brick, NJ, where I grew up for most of my life. Providence probably won't be my last stop on my residential list but it's not too bad of a place for now. I am currently working two different jobs as a barista... yup that's right I'm pretty damn broke. Living in a city, trying to make ends meet and having a life gets tricky but instead of beating myself up over living a life outside of a cubicle or a “regular” nine to five job (which I never wanted anyways) I am going to embrace it and live the life I want. Yes, it is a life that I am still trying to figure out but I finally had the realization that life has never been made up of one choice, it is a series of choices. They are the choices that happen day to day, moment to moment that create your past, and your future. I know, Duh Sarah! How could you not have realized that sooner?!? But to be honest, I didn't realize, but once I did it was like the gold at the end of a weird twisted rainbow.

After I graduated from college, a little over two years ago, everyone kept asking me what I was doing next, what my goals were or what my plan was. I never had a specific end goal in mind or even a route on how to get there. In fact it was more like that scene from the movie Fellowship of the Ring, Frodo is beginning his adventures with the other Hobbits, they stumble onto a path from Farmer Maggot's corn field, and Frodo stands up and looks down the darkening path knowing that danger is coming and they run off and hide, then they found their way through the woods to safety. That's right, I am currently running through the woods. This thought that used to scare me has begun to bring me comfort (and yes, there are more Lord of the Ring references where that came from). I have always been a person who likes A LOT of different things and to even contemplate the thought of working one job or even staying in the same place for my life is unsettling. I like the adventure of starting at the bottom somewhere else, it's a humbling experience. As much as I am still getting acquainted with life off of the beaten path I do know that it starts with you, your decision to create a path for yourself and to be your own guide, we all have the potential to be our own Les Stroud, or Bear Grylls if he's more up your ally.

Pawtuckaway State Park, NH (photo by me)

I am starting this blog because I am trying to figure life out, and I know that nowadays, there are a lot of people doing the same. I am here to tell you that you are not too old, that you are not too young to find a dream, to be happy. I am here to tell you that you might not need that new car or those new shoes, that living minimally is rewarding. I am here to tell you that you should start something new. I am here to tell you to look up at the stars, to read more, to not make anymore excuses, go on an adventure, to turn down a road you have never been down, to spend time with your friends and family, to laugh, eat and drink, to make something even if you don't know how. This is my journal of what I am doing, people I am seeing, what I am reading, music I am listening to, places that I am going, things I am thinking, projects I am working on, and all sorts of things that inspire me to live today and not someday.