On my road trip I found the house I was born in (literally iykyk) and lived in for the first five or so years of my life. Wild that I can still bring up some memories - picking honeysuckle on the side of the house, a flimsy metal swing set in the backyard, sitting in a high chair and throwing plum pits at my brother across the table, but I also remember the driveway and garage as big and scary. Memories are such strange things and can evoke such odd feelings.

Cohost of /gmfarcaster, a live stream Farcaster news show.  Engineer. Mom x 3.

amazing! and yes i know the feeling too, walk past my childhood home every other yr or so (my mom still lives just a few miles from it), i think about playing in the yard and it bring up a deep feeling of gratitude 🙏

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