Um, hello there.
The girl who can't find the shampoo and is really needing a shower.
The one who caved and bought gluten-free bread two days in a row because I have no idea how to cook while standing on boxes of pantry goods.
The one straddling two houses – one emptying and one filling. (For the record, the latter is happening at a much greater speed. Ruh roh.)
But it is happening. It is all coming together.
Two words? Tired and happy.
Exhausted and elated.
Overwhelmed and thrilled.
(That's six words. I know. But they are sort of synonyms.)
The terrified part fled at the sight of all of the work that had to be done. Your words helped, too. Thank you for that.
The farm is beautiful.
The nights are so dark and so quiet.
Even our dogs are happier here. Jasper, our old-old guy who grew up in the country just can't get enough. He has found a sunny hillside and sleeps all day out in the fresh air. It makes me want to cry.
And the kids have to be cajoled out of their pajamas before they rush out into the pasture to play. They can't get enough either.
Pete and I are adjusting to strange little
differences of this new home.
Everything is different. The sound of the water in the pipes. The way the light plays across the floor.
And how the kids run out of sight for
end. What an amazing shift! I'm constantly needing to remember (when I
wonder where they've gone) that worrying does not serve me. I keep
reminding myself that all is truly well.
Because it is.
All in all, I think we're winning. One box
at a time, we're getting there. (I've even stepped over some boxes to
hang some art. That always makes it feel like home, doesn't it?)
Last night I needed a break. Finally. To sit down in the silence and feel this change in my bones.
So while Pete put the kids to bed I went into my craft room. By the grace of God found the skeins of yarn I purchased a few weeks ago for Sage's new slippers, and also the pattern and the right size needles.
I found them. In the middle of a move.
Amazing? I think so.
Because this is my craft room. Oh my.
I closed the door on that mess and sat down to knit a few rows. And in that silence I felt… normalcy. What a treat that was.
With that, I'm heading back to the farm to unpack another stack of boxes. My brain is a little too fuzzy to even proof-read this, so forgive the type-os and run-on sentences.
As far as blogging normalcy goes, as soon as I have internet at the farm I'll be more consistent here again. Until then, I'll pop in to say hello and give you an update on life when we come into town.
Thanks for being all kinds of awesome, friends. Thanks for going on this journey with us.
Love to you all,