this city.

I have been known to proclaim, very loudly, enthusiastically, and on more than one occasion,

OH I JUST LOVE THIS PLACE! LET’S LIVE HERE!”

Seriously. These words come out of my mouth wayyy to often. And probably more than I actually mean 🙂 Strolling through Central Park on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Exploring the ins and outs of Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia. At pretty much every beach i’ve ever been to. Believe it or not the only trips where I probably haven’t exclaimed this proclamation have been overseas, when I dealt with horrible bouts of incurable homesickness.

But on most days, I love to explore new places. There is something in my heart that practically bursts at the discovery of a hole-in-the-wall book shop, or a homey cafe.

However there is something about Lancaster. About the crisp, cool nights of Fall- filled with pumpkin fields and apple orchards. About the chilly Winter season- bringing fresh, icy air and the smell of wood piles burning. About Spring- magestic cherry blossom trees spotting the countryside. And of course Summer- those warm, muggy nights made of  flashing fireflys and fresh dairy ice cream.

Living in the city has been different for me. I grew up in a location I thought was the perfect mix between suburban and rural. Backroads to run on, but not too far from Target.

However, I have grown to love the city- and what each season brings.

Winter, with it’s sleek and sparkling trees creating a bright wonderland. Spring, with the hustle and bustle of a city alive again. Summer, with it’s sweet evenings at the creamery, or sprawled out on a blanket in Musser Park. And Fall- a chill in the air that calls for blankets and sweaters…and trips downtown for hot apple cider.

Today was one of those days…when my eyes were reopened to what was in front of me. As much as I dream of the future, of a sweet old farmhouse with character, and a backyard made of wildflowers, I am cherishing today. Of love and of laughter over hot drinks. Of market mornings, and restful afternoons, and strangers becoming friends.

this city. it’s where we are now, and it’s what I will cherish.Processed with VSCOcam with t1 preset

23 North Lime

{an ode to the first home sweet home I ever made- inspired by snow and being stuck here}

 

23 North Lime.

My first home away from home. The only big move I ever really made, besides Baltimore to Lancaster…but being 8 at the time those memories are fuzzy. This little apartment, one fourth of a house in downtown Lancaster, seemed fine for me-on my own-with my roommate, but I’d always envisioned a full sized house when I pictured marriage. Then again, I never pictured marriage as a college student…or anywhere near college age. As we dream and save and consider the next step, I think about our space. The place where so many firsts have been, and will be, experienced. The place where we laugh, and cry, and snuggle, a lot. We have created a life in this place, and I truly do love it.

You know that saying,

what I love most about my home is who I share it with~

At the risk of being totally cliche, I’d say I am experiencing this. 

 The beauty of where we live is the people above and beside us. The neighbors up and down the street. The friends we’ve grown closer to as we just share life together. Where else could I move that exchanging a cup of orange juice for a fresh baked cookie is relatively easy and perfectly normal? Or where most of the coffee shops in town have been or once were represented. (I exaggerate. We’re talking Prince Street & Starbucks, but that’s enough for me. 🙂 )

Snow days are my favorite part.

Everything stops. The city is pretty terrible at plowing us out, so we’re stuck. But we’re not stuck alone. Days off mean Settlers tournaments, using each other’s Netflix accounts, bombarding snowball attacks upon exiting the building and the treacherous trek to Prince Street Cafe for that tenth cup of coffee. Opening the door to an empty fridge means gearing up for a two minute walk to Roaring Brook Market, at least for eggs and milk. And baking treats is perfectly acceptable because there is always someone who will eat them. Even in an ice storm the nice old doctor who parks next to me was salting my front step. I think that maybe this is the closest thing I’ll ever feel to living in an old-fashioned small town. (At least I like to pretend it is. Maybe I should start churning my own butter on the cement block I call my porch 🙂 ). The best parts are the evenings, when we all gather what we’ve got and create a meal together. Homemade soft pretzels & cocoa, breakfast for dinner, soup-salad-&-bread.

There’s something so cozy about knowing who you are surrounded by. About loving the people you live with, and about calling the friend upstairs for a cup of coffee during a “blizzard.” 

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On Monday I had an epiphany. I’m really gonna miss this. Someday, when we’re out of the city, when our home stands alone, I will treasure the memories of 23 North Lime. The annoyance of a full dryer outweighed by the joy of a new baby. The frustration of trash forgotten erased by spontaneous tightroping at the park. These are the moments we create, and we will never forget. 

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