a little coffee

So I’m back in Minnesota.  Fully rested from packing and moving and now putting off the daunting task of reorganizing my old bedroom (commandeered by my father and his burgeoning supply of kayaking paraphernalia) and sorting through the boxes that made it home.  And struggling to come to terms with a life amongst corn and soybean fields.  Whenever I come to my parent’s house, I’m always surprised by two things: the visible (green!) horizon and how incredibly quiet it is.  The hum of the refrigerator and my mother’s loquacious bird (besides the occasional dog bark) are the sounds that fill my days now instead of car horns and other peoples voices.  I‘ve already written about this so I’ll just leave you with picture of my parent’s backyard and the neighboring cornfield.  Notice no concrete (!!!)