Lately I've been feeling rather frustrated and possibly the most frustrating part of it all, is that I don't know what exactly I'm frustrated about. I try to tell my brain to figure it out, but it hasn't listened to me yet.
It's been so nice to escape up to the mountains, to our family cabin, to cooler weather and open spaces--i find myself craving places with bad reception and lots of family time. There's something magical to me about being in a place where windows down seems most natural. I have small town in my blood.