to all the frumpy skirts: a love letter

Dear frumpy skirts,

It took me a while before I attempted to befriend you. But eventually, I pushed all the thoughts of looking like a sister missionary out of my ears and embraced you wholeheartedly. And now we're best friends. Together we've embraced tshirts, sweaters, button ups, sneakers, and tights. And I love you more than ever. You're like that favorite pair of jeans that are a size too big and a little bit baggy but you love them regardless.

To all the frumpy skirts out there- you rock.

Sincerely, mad

Love letter to my undisclosed hometown;-)

Dearest secret place,

I love you. And I really wish I could say your name because I rather like it. But then Mom would worry about stalkers and such, so you must maintain a secret identity. (love you mom:-))

Wow, how to sum up ten years of life in a little town in a single letter? You can't really. I remember one day riding to church on a summer morning in the passenger seat with the windows down. I leaned out and took in a deep lungful of Georgia air, truly savoring it's taste. And then I sat back in the car and felt my heart swelling within my chest as I realized I really truly loved this place. I loved the trees and the cool breezes and all the green and the way it smelled. It was my home.

I wish I had explored you more fully earlier. I think I was under the impression that you were too tiny and lame to have anything worth exploring, but then I found the farmer's market and the food trucks (yum) and the antique shop (oh the antique shop!) and I'm wishing I'd spent more time walking the park trails and sipping on glass bottles of coke (i really love those). But alas.

Thanks for the summer storms and the crossfit in old town and the elementary school right next to the high school. Thanks for the playground with the swings and and the scarecrow outside that old lady's house. Thanks for the touch screens at the library that let me type in my library card number from memory. Thanks for type to learn in third grade and the track behind the school that I walked with Mrs. Norwood everyday in fourth grade. Thanks for the closet upstairs in Grandma's house that was a refuge to tortured cousins and that is still used as a secret hide out to this day (even if it does keep shrinking and we are awfully cramped). Thanks for the Bruster's that Papa could never say no to. Thanks for all the orange paw prints painted on the white walls and that endless staircase that led to the lower field of the middle school. Thanks for the random snow days and the abundance of pools in the summer. Thanks for the church on the corner and for the people that meet there each week.

Thanks for the cousins a few miles down the road and best friends from fourth grade. Thanks for letting an 8 year old girl who cried about moving make friends and finally recognize neighborhoods popping out of the sea of trees.

Thanks for a teenagehood.

Sincerely, mad

A Love Letter to England

My dearest England,

Wow, where to begin? This past month has been incredible. I've lived out my dream, and you were everything I've ever hoped you would be.

Thanks for all of the Moo-Moo's milkshakes and Ben's cookies. Thanks for teaching me that fries are chips and chips are crisps. Thanks for letting me not die as I crossed the streets. Thanks for helping me fall back in love with London during that lovely bike tour. Thanks for letting me bust out my acid yellow rain slicker, and thanks for the saltwater tan on my feet. Thanks for all of the good hair days. Thanks for the late night G&D's runs and spotty wifi that let me FaceTime my family and Skype my best friend. Thanks for the brilliant professors who taught me more about photography than I ever knew I wanted to know and confirmed my sneaking suspicion that English is the absolute perfect major for me. Thanks for the sheep on the hillsides and the ducks by the river that didn't attack me during our readings of Hamlet. Thanks for the people I've met and the friends I've made that I would never have talked to otherwise. Thanks for reminding me to be present and there and so enamored with my surroundings that I forget to check my phone. Thanks for the markets and the long bus rides to London that let us all nap. Thanks for the early morning running club and pain au chocolat for breakfast every morning. Thanks for the collection of empty water bottles on my desk and that epic penguin dive during ice skating. Thanks for the bustling markets and the greasy food and the hypnotist.

But above all, thanks for letting me be myself. Thanks for giving me the courage to become the girl with the camera, the girl who enjoys her assignments, the girl who likes castles and markets and museums more than shopping. Thanks for the courage to start writing again, to really explore what I can do with a camera, to experiment with being away from home. Thanks for letting me discover the person I want to be, and for showing me that that girl is just as fun as I've been hoping. England, I love you with all my heart. A piece of you will always be home.

Sincerely, mad

A Love Letter to My Cousins

Matthew, Simon, and Andrew,

My dearest cousins. My boys. I love you so much. And although I know this will embarrass you to no end and you will threaten me with my life if you ever read this, I'm going to write y'all a love letter of sorts. We're not in love or anything, but I couldn't really call this a cousin letter, now could I?

On Saturday we went to see Catching Fire together. We all rode in my car and sat on the back row of the theater. You boys commented on all the previews and drooled over your favorite actresses. You plugged your phones into the speakers of my car and sang at the top of your lungs all the way home. You guys were harmonizing and snapping and dancing your hearts out.

When I tried to get y'all to take a picture with me outside the theater, you played nose goes to determine the victim (we never did get that picture). You caught me up on all the swim team gossip on the way to the movie. You guys have so many inside jokes, and you could laugh about them for days. 

I love how you play with the younger kids and treat them like big kids. They adore you. I love your rivalries and competitions. So many of my friends come up to me with so many nice things to say about you guys. Everyone at school and church seems to think you're all pretty cool. But they don't know the half of it. 

I know we don't always get along and that we don't always act like we like each other. But the fact that we are family keeps us together. Sometimes I watch you guys and my heart just melts. Gosh I love you boys.

Sincerely, mad