Leaving
In 9 days, I am moving out of the house I grew up in here in Stamford, CT.
When I was 18, I left for college in Vermont and thought I would leave and never come back.
After a six weeks of college, though, I was thrilled to come back to Connecticut, sleep in my own bed, and use my own bathroom (one that I didn’t have to share with 22 guys who were incapable of shutting their stall doors.)
Throughout my college years, my house was my haven over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks, a place to renew and regain strength before facing more exams and more sleepless nights.
As they say, you can take the nutmegger out of the Nutmeg State–but you can’t take the nutmeg out of her. The thing about memories is, anyway, that no matter where you go, you’ll always hang on to them.
beautiful pics…I will miss my hunting grounds too!
Yes hang on to those memories, I remember how I felt moving out of the house I grew up in.. it is a bittersweet feeling. I sometimes still drive past the old house to have a little reminiscing session, lol.