Hickory Smoked Turkey

This past week, past few months really, I've been complaining about the space I inhabit in my life.  There are so many things that I need or want that I almost feel like a kid and not an adult.  I took stock on all of the things, mostly materialistic, that I needed in order to feel like my life was on the right track.  Some of the things on the list were: winter boots, sheets that not only match but fit the bed, a comforter that fits the bed, curtains, new clothes, a full time job that will lead to a career, a pair of high heels and a dental appointment. Tonight, when I got home from work and started folding the mismatched/hand-me-down laundry, I had a realization.  This is the life I imagined when I was younger.  As a kid I thought mismatched, wonky towels and sheets meant that you lived an interesting life.  It meant that you had been places, that you collected memories and not "things."  I believed that in order to live the life of a writer, thin...