Carbon Copy

Sugar House

I'm back in Utah. I came back to a new home. Last March, my mom moved out on her own for the first time to a little place in Sugar House. It's adorable: hardwood floors, breakfast nook, corner sink, little door for a laundry shoot. Very cottage-y (not the cheese kind). It's a new experience living in Sugar House. I'm all turned around in directions living at this end of the valley. I have to head south more often than north. I don't know the fastest routes. Everything seems leisurely. The streets, yards, and parks are all populated at any given hour. The other afternoon, I went to play in the park across the street with my niece. To my dismay, there were circles of women picnicking while their children played. Whole groups of them. They made me anxious, and I can't really tell you why. People are always out jogging, and this morning I had to slowly follow in my car two cyclists who would not move over to the side of the road. It's contageous, this out-of-doorsness. Even as I type I'm sitting out on the porch enjoying the sunset and evening breeze. It's no surprise that several people are walking their dogs in the park while children swing. Huh, so this is what it's like living in a neighborhood that actually lives.