Lately, I have felt inspired more to share, but I have a hard time knowing what to write about. I’ve been wanting to catch those beautiful but maybe mundane moments. My beautifully mundane moment this morning was making my french press coffee. It’s something I’ve done so many times that I don’t even have to think about it, but maybe it was just something about the light in my dirty kitchen that made this morning’s coffee extra special. Even the coffee itself tastes better than usual.
I remember back when Doug and I were living in Omaha and had probably been married less than a year, we spent a Sunday morning meandering around downtown. We basically lived on the outskirts of downtown, so it was nothing to walk outside our apartment’s courtyard and head down Harney St. That morning we walked over to Dixie Quiks for a delicious breakfast and then proceeded to walk all over downtown. And not the normal parts like the Old Market, but back in that weird area near The Flatiron building, and then down around some office buildings and I’m sure we finally made our way to the more normal areas of downtown. The point is that it made for an out of the ordinary Sunday morning experience. It was kind of deserted and not many people were out, so we almost felt like we had the city to ourselves.
All this makes me realize that it is so interesting to be from somewhere where you do not currently live. When you grow up somewhere, or come to identify a place as “home”, the glasses just get rosier and rosier the longer I’m away. Because now I would like nothing more than to be in Omaha right now, walking around downtown, seeing those familiar faces of people who will never leave. I’ll have my chance this summer, when we’ll be heading back for the first time in three years. It’s hard to believe, really.
For me, a good Sunday morning is discovering something new about something that has been there all along, whether it be a street corner in a town you’ve lived your whole life, or something like making coffee.