So I'm on my walk

around my neighborhood and decide to stop on the sidewalk next to my mailbox (which is supposed to be black but is rather faded on the top in expanding circular-like entities, kind of like wood rings) to look at my house. Everyone else already went to do the whole in-versus-out perspective of where they hang out so I thought it would be cool to look at my house since it's kind of a hang out place since I live in it. It looks small. Not tiny, but small. One of my friends described it as small and cute, like me. That makes sense since there is a row of small orbular (I don't know if that's a word) bushes with pink flowers that line the edge of the lawn. (I guess it adds to the cuteness). And my house is one story with pretty ordinary coloring--off white and tan with a dark brown-red roof. There are also palm-frond plants arranged in an Asian sorta of way in front of one part of the house so it keeps a portion from being exposed and I guess Asian-ness is kind of cute, all those pisu signs, tiny eyes, and squishy gel grip mechanical pencils. When I'm inside of my house I think it feels different in that it doesn't seem that small. I mean, it's not huge or anything, but we have high beam ceilings in the main portions of the house like the dining, living, and family room so it's spacious and doesn't give a claustrophobic feeling. It still has a cutesy feeling to it. My Mom buys materials from craft fairs here and there so we have some craft baskets with doilee like hemming, which hold note pads, calculators, and post-its. Our refrierator also has a lot of cute magnets like Precious Moments characters, Mickey Mouse, Daisy Duck, and Minnie Mouse clip magnets, tupperware, tigers, photos of my family, a girl and boy in kimonos, and a little blue bowl with a cat hiding in the somen. Most of the lights aren'ts very white, more yellowy so there really isn't any harshness except in the kitchen where there are fluorescent lights. My home is a homey home. At least it feels that way to me. Although we have a glass dining table which might look fancy to a guest I think my home is pretty welcoming and doesn't feel too stuffy.

Continuing on my walk I realize that I am taking the path that I used to take when my dad, my sister, and I used to go walking together after dinner. That was, of course, a while ago, maybe in 7th grade and part of 8th grade, back when there wasn't as much homework. Now I go home and take a nap either before dinner, or after doing some homework. None of this "take a walk" business. But I do miss it. It was fun to walk around my neighborhood for 30 to 40 minutes because I got to walk by houses that I'd never seen before and experience the feeling of being out at night with the cool air, the chirps of the bugs, and the on-toes feeling of walking around in the dark. Now I've passed the little park and am by the houses across from the empty-ish lot that attaches to the parking lot for the convenient stores and Thai restaurant. The weeds are high and the crickets, or whatever bugs they are, are making high chirping screechy noises--just like they used to before. Before, they irritated me so much. The consistency and volume would seem to fill the night with screechy-scratchy pitches for the two long blocks. They are still irritating, but not as much as before. I guess the nostalgia of going for a walk again makes it seem like strolling through memories.

On the second of the two blocks was a corner where we used to find a lot of slugs. My Dad, my sister, and I always carried a little flash light so we could see where we were walking in case there was any roadkill, toads, bugs or other unknown things which would be unpleasant to step on. After walking by that corner for a couple nights, we decided to bring a ziploc bag with Morton's salt to kill the slugs. I remember walking around with a hill of salt in hand sprinkling the pointy crystals over the black smudges on the sidewalk like Peter Pan sprinkling pixie dust on the Darling children, except the black speckled squishies would squirm (as much as a slug can squirm) and leak their goop. The next night they'd be dry husks on the sidewalk and my sister and I would be sad that there weren't anymore slugs to kill. I don't see any slugs now. Just some ants walking around. Maybe it's too early for them to be out, but I don't have any salt with me so it's not like I could really do anything.

After twenty more minutes of walking I can see my house in the distance. The little bushes and the mail box seem to blend in, nothing extraordinary when looking at everyone else's mailbox and front yard. As I continue to approach, I think the house a couple blocks before my house is more interesting since it has lumpy grass. Seriously. The lawn is comprised of many mini-mini fuzzy green parabolas. Kind of like putting ostritch eggs under a furry green carpet. It looks like anyone would sink in, walking on ground like that. From here my house looks ordinary and easily overlooked. It's the houses with weird lawns, colors, or Christmas lights still up that garner attention. But I think I'm OK with my house not sticking out.