Pictographic memories

Life has been curiously sweet and bitter.

Sweet but foreign is the word HOME

I've visited home four times. Wow, it looks even more awkward written out. I spent the first five years after moving to Atlanta, working day after day. Usually every week out of the year. I was lucky if I had the time to take off. So you see, once my 'rents moved to bumblebuck nowhere, I had few opportunities to see them. Growing up in Albany did not help build an affinity towards the small town either.

But during the last few trips, I've grown accustomed to the quiet town. It has a few quirks here and there, with retro night clubs, cigar bars, small coffee shops, and the rustle and bustle of the 24-hour Wal-Mart.
And of course, the familiar 50's-feel Korean supermarket and restaurant. Yes, it's singular.

I looked up after thrifting children's books
then went home and baked cookies