Feeling Wistful In Wisconsin

With the exception of my hair, every fiber of my being enjoys a hot, rainy Sunday afternoon. The rain often brings with it a heavy dose of nostalgia for me. Perhaps today’s nostalgia came with the stories I heard yesterday from my grandma about life during the war. Either way, the nostalgia sent me on an adventure today in the state that I give credit (or blame?) to for my love of cheese, beer, and the Green Bay Packers.

It’s funny how we remember things a certain way. It’s even funnier when those things are STILL that certain way, two decades later.

There are only three things I can think of in my life that haven’t changed: God, my grandma, and Wisconsin (and I’ll never be able to explain the depth of which those three things are entwined). With all the changes I’ve had in recent years (errr…in all my years) these constants have been an anchor for me.

Today I visited the house my grandpa built the year that my mom was born. This is the only house that anyone I know lived in for my entire childhood. Did you catch that? It’s crazy how mobile my family is!

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I also went by the elementary school that my mom and her siblings attended, which also happened to be the school I attended in second grade while living with my grandma. It’s one of the FOURTEEN schools I’ve attended. (That whole restless spirit thing is starting making sense to you soon. πŸ˜‰ )

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After getting my Muskego fix, and throwing my now frizzy hair up in a knot, I continued adventuring throughout the steadfast state of Wisconsin. I’ll post more about my Wisconsin wanderings at a later date. For now, I think I’ll dry off, grab a beer, and watch some old Packers highlights.

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