Today, in my procrastination of writing for school, I watched Julie & Julia. At the end of the movie, they visit the Julia Child’s exhibit at the American History Museum. http://americanhistory.si.edu/juliachild/ This used to be one of my favorite places to take my little preschool class. For eight years, I’d encourage small fingers off the glass, as they peered in to spy the various tools and treasures. That kitchen, I believe, was my dream when I thought about moving and having my own place, filling it with family recipes and fond memories.
When I saw it today in the movie, unexpectedly I started to cry. A lot of times lately, I’ve been wishing my fingers were pressed against something familiar. Moving is always an adventure and can be a dream come true, knowing beginnings are always a little awkward and bumpy. While my kitchen is an eighth of the size of hers, there is still hope for it all. Though, instead of the new bumps, I think I was actually crying a little bit for my past view. A little homesick for DC on this rainy, Chicago afternoon I guess. Instead of baking tonight, I think I will visit the quaint corner bakery and remember one of the best things about my new neighborhood so far…their chocolate croissants.