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Where I am From

I read this lovely blog post by Kassandra Lamb and thought it would be fun to try this myself. Enjoy!

I’m from the boom box, Atari, and blue eye shadow to my eyebrows.

I’m from the small home with a single bathroom that five of us had to share. I’m from being the oldest and having my own room, every inch of wall and ceiling space covered with posters of the hair band hotties. The smell of Aque Net hung like a thick cloud.


I am from sneaking down to the river where we used to play as kids, and the sandstone rocks we used to climb.

I am from the road trips to Longmont for Christmas, battling the raging Rocky Mountain blizzards, and from the endless hours of chatting everyone’s ears off. I’m from the endless hours conspiring with Cimarron and Bree on how to get money out of our dad, and from endless hours us sisters would spend with our cousins Tonya, Adrienne, and Jared, rehearsing yet another play that we would force our parents to watch.

I’m from the outdoors where we spent many a weekend huddled in a tent while it poured rain and from the more comfortable nights spent in the camper in a warm bed after my folks got tired of the wet camping gear.

I’m from the family of unconditional love and sacrifice, and that Santa can find us even if we are stuck in the Blazer in a hotel in Denver because the interstates were closed down. I still believe in Santa.

I am from the beauty of creation and He who created it, sees all my faults and shame, and yet loves me all the same.

I am from the awesome blending of Bulgarian and Native American, pale face and red skin, my mom’s homemade spaghetti she makes every year for our birthdays and venison that we hunt ourselves in the fall. From the stories of Fran and Irene my Dad and Uncle Pat tell around the camp fire at hunting camp, and how I can sit for hours and listen to the same stories about how Uncle Jody tried to kill Grandpa every chance he got with his inherent clumsiness, and how I laugh as hard as I did the first time I heard them.

I’m from the dusty yellowed photo albums on Grammy’s shelves. I’m from gazing at the pictures of my mom and dad when they were young and asking Grammy to tell me stories about the two of them, cherishing the glimpse into their past and who they were and who they are, and I’m from wishing Grammy was still with us so she could tell us the stories again.

If you would like to tell the world about where you are from, here’s the template:

Where Are You From?

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.

I am from the _______ (home description… adjective, adjective, sensory detail).

I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)

I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).

I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).

From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).

I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.

I’m from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).

From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).

I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).


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