the sound of music

I came home from home yesterday, the kind of sentence that makes sense at the holidays. I went home for the holidays, but of course my home, the one where my Christmas decorations are and the one where I pay the bills, is no longer in Burlington.

I like to think of myself as a two home sort of person. {Note: It is a dream of mine to one day be able to say "my summer cottage." I guess I could say it now; it just wouldn't be true. My summer cottage. There, a dream come true.}

But before I went back to paying the bills and work, I took yesterday as a last stretch of vacation.

Conveniently enough, ABC seemed to be aware of my plan and showed The Sound of Music last night, which is one of those movies that flits through the back of my memory at all times.

I see a fountain, I think of The Sound of Music.

I sing the solfege {do re mi fa so la ti do}, I think of The Sound of Music.

I wear a pretty dress, I think of The Sound of Music.

It's not that I watched it much when I was growing up; I was more obsessed with the Annette Funicello Babes in Toyland. I really just think it's imprinted in my memory because it's one of those epic, everyone-has-seen-it kinds of movies. It's part of our collective memory, collective culture, collective experience {as Americans pretending we were European, perhaps}.

When I was flipping through the channels last night, trying to find something to watch while I sewed, I came across "16 Going on 17," and I immediately wanted to dance on benches.

Because of that song, I have always wanted to dance on benches, leaping from stone bench to stone bench in the rain.

When I was little, I used to make do in the living room, where we had no stone benches. I would jump up and down on the couch and pretend that I was a very grown-up 16 {almost 17} and that someone was singing about how much he wanted to take care of me.

Last night, at a very grown-up 29, I did not jump on the couch, most likely because it is my couch and I want to take good care of it.

Instead, I cut out fabric and sang loudly, which is like dancing on benches in your heart.