After a year and a half of being married, I've found it quite difficult to start calling California "home." Being away from the rest of our families is hard sometimes, but when I see how the distance has strengthened our marriage, it's not so hard anymore. Regardless, whenever we come up North to visit friends and family, a wave of nostalgia overwhelms me. Although you sometimes don't realize what you have until its gone, when it comes back in little doses, it's very sweet. In addition, I probably romanticize my home town a little more than I should, but that's OK, because I know I'll always think about Severna Park in this light.
On Friday, I drove up to have lunch with my Mom and sister and afterward, ran over to my parents house to take some pictures of things I remembered most about it.
I grew up in Chartwell, the famed Golf Course. Although our house wasn't overlooking the greens, I can still remember my Dad dragging my sister and I up there on snow days so we could sled down the enormous hills. We had matching hot pink snow suits which were a hideous sight, but for some reason, Christina could always look cool in hers. I just looked like the kid from "The Christmas Story," to the likeness of a swollen tick. Tragic. Anyway, driving past the golf course at this point was just so pretty. And I never remember that brick bridge being there before....
I picked up my two nephews and dragged them on a walk with me. Reluctantly, they walked all the way up to Kinder Park (which is only a block of two away) with me so I could take one picture. I remember so much about Kinder Park as it was always central to my childhood sports. I'm sorry, SPORT. I used to Cheerlead for the Mighty Green Hornets Football team, the 140 pounders. So many a FREEZING cold night, I would sit there swooning over the older guys in their studly uniforms. OH, to this day I love the sight of a football player! Another sport I did was chasing boys. In middle school, I was sure good at it, too! I think Kinder Park was a playground for all Middle School girls to play that sport :)
This sidewalk (although recently re-paved) has many memories for me as well. We lived just down the street from Benfield School, so my sister and I were able to walk to school every day. However, once Christina got to middle school, I made my poor Mother drive me because I didn't like to walk in the cold. Spoiled, much?! Anyway, I DO remember walking to both Elementary and Middle school down this sidewalk. I used to fret on my way home because they used to call us "walkers." I deserted it for about a year to take another longer walking route to school just so I could walk with a cute boy down the street. I came back to it last year when I picked up my oldest Nephew from school where he has the same teacher I had in 3rd grade. All of my older siblings walked this same path to school every day and looking back, that's just pretty cool!
The BEST part about Chartwell are the trees. The trees never cease to amaze me with their splendid height. What a beautiful shelter that was provided to us all growing up. The vast canopy that hangs over all of Severna Park will forever be ingrained in my memory. Mind you, I am not laying on the ground for this shot. It's just incredible. (My 2 nephews are in front of me in the road there. They look like little ants compared to the trees!)
Somewhat unrelated to Severna Park, behold: Adam's Bike. This thing has been run into the ground (please note the duct tape). The boy could care less. He rides that thing like he's chasing Superman. And I'm sure if you'd ask him, he'd tell you that HE is Superman.
Anyways, when I got to High School, Severna Park kind of took the back seat to Annapolis as I began my high school career there. But the best part about driving home after visiting Severna Park now, is driving through Annapolis. I managed to hit it just as the sun was setting. I think God knew I was coming with my camera because he sure put on a show for me that evening!
I spent many a high school days under the Naval Academy Bridge. There's now a beautiful restaurant there, but it used to be just a park and some old, deserted piers. I used to sit and contemplate life or my future here and take in the glory of the sky and the calmness of the river. I haven't been back there in about 5 years, but it was reassuring to see that it hadn't changed a whole lot...especially the view. Amazing, huh?
I never really visited the World War 2 Memorial just before crossing over the bridge, but I thought I'd stop and check it out. It has a great view of the Severn River and the Naval Academy, just over the bridge. Did I mention how beautiful the sky was that night!?
The WW2 Memorial. The view from the top is the picture above.
Being down here in "the South" has made me realize the importance of having "roots." I think that's one of the things I love about being down here. Even if you have to uproot for a little while, never take for granted the memories of your childhood as they make up your roots.
It was a long two nights.
So if you made it past the drama, you can get the low-down. Our kitty was "blocked," which means that he couldn't "go." This, obviously, was quite painful for him and was actually life-threatening had we not taken him to the vet. They hooked sweet fluffy-face up to a catheter and cleared the sucker right up. To do this, however, they had to hook him up to an IV, hence the partially (and quite pathetically) shaved arm. Although he has no open wounds, he continues to lick his bare leg quite incessantly. Since this is the equivalent to a human Urinary Tract Infection, there is no guarantee that this will fix him forever. We've changed his diet and are now feeding him filtered water. I'm sure he'll grow to be quite spoiled from here on out. Anyway, Killian is only about 4 years old and has never had any health problems. Hopefully this will not be the start of a new trend. Thank you ALL for keeping him (and us) in your thoughts... we're glad he's home from battle.
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Wow. What to do with my time? No more school to complain about, no more procrastinating from my never-ending papers. I'm in the market for a hobby. Lucky for me, I have my camera! But wait! I'm sick of taking pictures of my cat, and I'm pretty sure you're tired of looking at pictures of my poor cat. Since I don't have any current clients to keep me busy, I've decided to ORGANIZE my pictures into neat and tidy little files for easy finding.
Bobby and I have a monster living with us. Oh, you didn't know? His name is Killian... and he doesn't like me. One. Bit. For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while or have visited our apartment, you probably know that our cat is quite cordial to visitors. He'll rub against your leg or purr loudly. He'll even perform a trick...if he feels like it. He'll even escort you to the door and poke his [snarling] nose out to sniff around. But my friends, as soon as you exit our third floor loft, that sweet Killian turns into a nasty beast.
Mind you, his performance is only in full swing when Bobby is NOT around. Let me take you back with us to that Lowly Pet's Mart on Route 40 in Baltimore. B and I had been dating only a few months at that point. He moved into his own apartment and the first order of business was to get him a cat to keep him company at home. I dragged him into the store (mind you, this man is not so fond of animals. Any animal) as I just about skipped on over to the pet adoption center. I instantly spotted a litter of kittens and was completely smitten. Killian stood out with that cute little spot on his nose. We took him home, all fluffy and cute, and played with him constantly every time I went to Bobby's place. About two years went by and Bobby and I were finally married. Naturally, we moved into our first apartment together, kitty cat and all!
The first night at our new home, Bobby turned out the lights to go to bed. As I was still in the other (now, dark) room, I hear Killian's little bell ringing and can tell he's approaching quite fast. "Good Boy, Killian!" I whisper, thinking he's coming to "lick" me good-night. But instead of a nice, loving lick, I get a mean, nasty and very painful BITE! As he laid a kung-fu grip around my ankle with his paws, I began to yell and scream and shake my leg to remove the monster. After a big ol' smack to his feline behind, I sprinted my way back to our bedroom and slammed the door.
Now, a year and a half later from that night, Bobby has thought this to be HILARIOUS and so almost every night, my two boys gang up on me and they recreate the routine over. And over. And over. What did I do to deserve such a nasty bite from my sweet, fluffy feline? Perhaps he sees me as an intruder on his guy time with B. Who knows. Either way, the boy is a little stinker... Killian, that is.
