"every holmes must have his watson" | happy birthday, m'dear miss watson.

I've never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So here, in front of you all, my first and last vow...whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there. always. 

Sherlock, The Sign of Three

stills from our adventures at Shelter Island, San Diego || & || our traditional tea at San Juan Capistrano 

It's Fascinating How we're taught that 'home' is this tangible place, the most simply defined of terms - it's a house, a postcode, a country. AND YET SOMETIMES HOME CANNOT BE EXPLAINED BY A STREET NUMBER; SOMETIMES IT'S A FACE, A VOICE, A LAUGH MORE HONEST AND FAMILIAR THAN ANY TRUTH YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN. WE'RE TAUGHT THAT IN ITS MOST LITERAL SENSE, HOME IS WHERE WE LIVE AND GROW. BUT ONE DAY, IN THE SILENCE THAT FOLLOWS NOSTALGIC STORIES AND SUBSEQUENT LAUGHTER, YOU MAY REALIZE THAT YOU NEVER DID MORE LIVING OR GROWING THAN WHEN YOU HAD CERTAIN PEOPLE BY YOUR SIDE. AND SUDDENLY, YOU ARE HOME. K. R. R.

we were driving home, the other evening, from a very interesting day spent at NIHD camp. out the window, the western sun was gently cutting through the clouds, painted gold over a rippling pacific. i was thinking back upon all the stoa people i had met over the day, new faces - yet not so new after the months of hearing descriptions from johanna and the family. and i looked over and saw one dear face, so familiar that in a flickering moment i could tell what she was thinking.  

"I love how honest we can be in front of each other."

"I love how at home we feel with each other." was your response, completed with a contented sigh. 

it reaffirmed my belief that home isn't a house, but a road that keeps leading you running back to people - the people who you can banter with, tease, tear apart, read like a book, and still feel comforted that they won't scared enough to run away from your insanity {better yet, heighten and join in on it}, even after so many do. they won't leave even if 262.4 miles and a year's time separate you. they will remain mad at those who genuinely offend them. they are as - john green described, "the people you can think out loud in front of." 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

so thank you, dear friend, for taking the time to make our friendship work despite the distance and the curveballs life apparently is apt to throw at us. thank you for being my crazy, insane bisque; my confidant; my starbucks sis; my watson to my holmes. XD
i hope you know that no matter where i go, no matter how many miles separate us {whether three hundred miles or three thousand} nor how crazy busy life may get, i will always love you and will always thank the Lord for orchestrating our meeting and giving me you as a friend. above all, thank you for sweetening these past four years {are you sure it wasn't twenty loooong, trudging years?  XD} with your sweet spirit and kind ways. here's to our always. ;)  

happy birthday, my dearest JW.
love you oh so much further than just to the moon and back, okay?

- your MH {aka your little almond joy} 

p.s. one more post about my OC adventures, and that's it. promise. XD 

hello, my old heart.

clara sometimes asks me if i dream. "of course I dream, " I tell her. "Everybody dreams."
"But what do you dream about?" she'll ask.
"The same thing everybody dreams about, "I tell her. "I dream about where I'm going."
She always laughs at that. "But you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering about." That's not true. not anymore. I have a new destination. my journey is the same as yours, the same as anyone's. It's taken me so many years, so many lifetimes, but at last I know where I'm going. Where I've always been going.
Home. (the long way around). 
|| my raggedy doctor, the day of the doctor || 

*and these are the days we dream about
when the sun paints us gold 
as we lie with no wants under a canopy of pines
a corner of the world saturated in fairytales & nostalgia.
here, my heart begins to beat again:
here, i am home.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

stills and moments from the myriads of photoshoots, evenings of baking, afternoon walks in the forest, movie nights, and big bear exploring during our five days spent in the mountains. 
lake arrowhead, you do my heart good. christmas can't come soon enough. 
xx 
*lyrics from bright eyes, though i do not necessarily recommend their music.