Our Sweet Spot

In my earliest memory, I was four years old.

It’s more flash than narrative, more a feeling than a storyline, more a dream fragment than substantive recollection. Nevertheless, it’s a peek inside my childhood mind, and one I’m grateful I remember.

It was this time of year— early fall. We lived in a red house on a dead-end street and at four, I was still an only child. I opened the heavy storm door and stepped onto the front porch.

There was a faint hint of smoke in the air— a neighbor burning trash, perhaps, on the other side of the hill. As I held onto the wrought-iron banister I said aloud to no one but the trees: I wish I were nine.

I have time and memories on my mind a lot lately (I wrote about it here and here just in the last week or so!). Maybe it’s because of the change of seasons or the fact that I just had a birthday.

Today I’m talking about the idea of freezing time to appreciate the moment we’re in. I hope you’ll visit me at Sluiter Nation to read it. Katie has already laid out the welcome mat for you over at her place : )

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  1. Katie says:

    Thank you SO much for coming over to my place today, Mary Lauren. I am honored to have your words in my space.
    Katie recently posted..Our Sweet SpotMy Profile

  2. Harriet says:

    Its the best place for having some relaxation…Thanks a lot for sharing with us..
    Harriet recently posted..yeast infectionMy Profile

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