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hi you,

I'm the tourist on the metro, lover of markets and dresses, a writer in the local coffee shop, and the friend who is always up for a picnic and conversation. 
Welcome to L. Raine

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home

 I admit it, homesickness has taken over. [temporarily I hope] I tried to divert it by writing about the Stockdale Paradox, but hey, philosophy can only do so much before it is just too late and one is engulfed in Lake Michigan sized waves of wanting to be back. I tried to ignore it when there was a party at my house last night. The time with friends was swell, and the chicken mango tacos and brownies and ice cream were nothing to sneeze at either, but the homesickness was back this morning.  

 I even ate salted caramel, chocolate-covered pretzel ice cream. Then I looked at pictures of my family. 

 Welcome to my daydream. 

I adore this picture, because my little sister (who will grump if I don't mention that she is taller than I) is incredibly good with kids. I like kids, but they are drawn to her. I think it's because she has gold hidden inside of her; it comes out through her eyes and hair sometimes, if she lets it. 

 I miss these people like crazy.  Often I talk about Michigan and how much I love the lake, the beautiful summers, the winters with gorgeous snowstorms, and the incredible breezes, but when it comes down to it, the real heart of me belongs with my people. These are the ones that I can quote a movie too, any movie, and they "get" it or finish the quote. These are the people that listened to Adventures in Odyssey every single night and recorded boxes full of tapes of episodes we liked. These are the kids that built teepees, fished from creeks, went camping, rode pigs, yelled at each other, got in trouble at school, ate chicken nuggets and spaghetti, read library books until they came out of our ears and got the free pizza when we reached our quota. 

Oh not bad, planted a few fields of crops, talked to God.. what’s for dinner?
— Noah

All of us crammed into vans together for dozens of road trips, because with our dad you went somewhere more than you stayed, and listened to music coming from all corners of the house more often than not. Mom would walk around the house humming hymns and from both of them I learned to sing before I could talk. 

Not all of the family is pictured below, with at least one family, one husband and one fiancee missing. 

This is the sister who slept on the bottom bunk and stuck out her hand when she heard me say, "Here I go-ooo.." 

Poor hurt hand. 

That brother on the end to the left? You don't know it, but he's probably the only person in this whole world I know of that can make me debate hotly over whatever thing we disagree on. He did make me think about whether or not anyone can ever be truly objective. Huh. 

My SIL, who is the best up seller I've ever seen, with a pretty mean skill at Chemistry in the Kitchen, A.K.A making soap. On her lap is her daughter, my niece, 

Perhaps someday I'll post pictures of all of us. Maybe if I am lucky, or persuasive enough, they will all come vacation at the Outer Banks someday. 

So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family, that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty,
— Haniel Long

All photos taken by Melody Brubaker, courtesy of LS Living. 



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