Yesterday was a long, emotional, day.
This is the house I lived in until I was 17 and left for college:
It's tucked up in the foothills above Los Angeles.
The house doesn't look exactly the same now, of course, but I was tempted to walk right in the front door anyway.
I stopped by my elementary school. There was a man standing outside and he asked me all sorts of questions. He was curious, and cautious … and maybe just nosy?
"Your photos aren't going to end up on that innernetzz, are they?" he asked after getting my entire life's history.
"That Facebook thing or something like that?" he inquired.
"No," I lied answered.
Put a photo on "that innernetzz"????
It was really strange, I seemed to attract attention everywhere I went. I think people see a professional looking camera and instantly assume "journalist."
The old neighborhood looks pretty much the same:
I had a sudden realization as to why I settled in my current home with mountains, once again, looming behind me. Mountains feel like home. Some parts of my childhood are etched into my soul.
I stopped by my old middle school and high school also, but I won't bore you with those photos.
I also visited the (very) cute town of Montrose. When I was a kid it was a big deal to go to the movies in Montrose. The theater is long gone, but many of the businesses remain the same.
The day was a jumble of memories leaping out at me. Some of them hurt, some of them made me smile, and some of them were completely unexpected.
There were a few demons to face also, but I'm not sure I did. I think, maybe, I just averted my eyes and thoughts from the scary places they still hide.
I suppose life sometimes is best taken in baby steps.
Did I mention, Montrose is utterly charming?