Bedroom coffee cup.

Bedroom coffee cup.

When I was growing you could always track my whereabouts in the house by following the trail of belongings I left in my wake. (I was not great at picking up after myself.)  As an adult I do endeavor to corral my belongings as I go about my day, but somehow I still manage to leave a tiny trail.

Elastics on doorknob.

Elastics on doorknob.

This trail now comes in the form of coffee cups and hair elastics and they are everywhere in my house. (My hair is fine and slippery and nothing ever stays in it too long and coffee cups, well, they just seem to multiply in my presence.)

Coffee in bathroom.

Coffee in bathroom.

I don’t set out to leave these things around. It’s almost as if in spite of my tidying efforts, they feel the need to let my presence (or existence?) be known and throw themselves into every nook and cranny, onto every table edge and bathroom countertop.

Hair elastic in bed.

Hair elastic in bed.

Lots of people I know leave little things behind them. This makes me so happy. My sister stayed with us two weeks ago I can still smell her light fragrance in her room.

Office coffee.

Office coffee.

When my friend Sarah has been staying with us, there are books open all over the house. Jody leaves pens and glasses of water.

Bedside.

Bedside.

Once, I read a story about a person who would leave bars of soap behind. The soap would remind people of him as they used it, but would eventually disappear. (So lovely and mysterious.)

Kitchen coffee.

Kitchen coffee.

A gentle thought on a Tuesday morning to celebrate the intricacies, quirks or habits that reside within the people we love. What do you leave behind?

Elastic on stairwell.

Elastic on stairwell.

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