The place I call Home

These days people move around a lot, living in many different places. I've lost track of the number of apartments I have lived in, considering I've moved at least once a year for the past 6 years or more. I remember my boss at the radio station in Dayton talking about calling Indianapolis "home" even though she had grown up someplace else. Indianapolis was where she has spent a good amount of time and felt most like Home to her. I was living in Miamisburg, OH at the time, in a house with my older brother Paul. This was my first residence post living with Mom and Dad.

Now after living in Massachusetts for almost 5 years and in now in my 4th apartment here, I am adjusting to the crazy driving, stores closing at 10pm or earlier, and the winter, well not so sure I will ever get used to that. However, Ohio is and probably will always be HOME. It amazes me how much changes while I am gone. I grew up in Farmersville, Ohio, and for those of you who don't know it, it is pretty much everything the name conjures up in your mind: small midwestern farming community. But it is growing quickly. House are springing up where corn and soybeans used to be all you could see. There is now a paved walking/bike path that covers the 1 mile between Farmersville and the community park next to my parents house. Even the community swimming pool has been completely redone, now looking more modern and includes a water slide.

While visiting my parents the day before Thanksgiving, I thought about how much things had changed and wonder how much they will change still between now and my next visit. I took out my camera with the intention of having proof of my farm upbrining for my coworkers who laugh at my, "Jenni on the farm" stories , but it turned into more of trying to make things stand still so I can remember how it was years from now.

Here is my Thanksgiving trip down memory lane just outside of Farmersville, OH, and a little glimpse into where I came from and what makes me, ME.

Enjoy!