So my parents sold their house in our hometown of Andover (A-town as the cool kids like to call it). We moved there when I was six so it’s the only place that I know as home… the only place that ever felt like home. I can walk through every room in that house and think of something hilarious, sad, life changing, and ground breaking that happened in it. I can probably remember exactly where I was standing during all of these times too. It is in a great neighborhood filled with great neighbors, all of my closest friends grew up within a 5-10 minute drive… so many memories. It’s sad to leave it behind, but exciting, in an extremely weird way, to move on.
I stopped by the house for one last time the other day to help the parents finish packing up… wrapping up lots of pictures and dishes in the kitchen. I think everyone goes through this when they move… but you sort of start throwing everything out and giving things away because you really don’t feel like wrapping it up and boxing it up. So on Saturday, my mom had reached that point. She had piles and piles of pots, pans, and dishes (not to mention countless numbers of bags of clothing) lined up on the kitchen floor to give away to Salvation Army. Obviously I had to sift through to see what I “needed”. Shopping without having to bring the wallet? I’m in.
Here is what I managed to snag:
[And although this isn’t necessarily my “style”, my mom would make sweet potatoes in this dish on holidays for as long as I can remember… it just wouldn’t be right to give it away… it reminds me too much of home]