Monday, May 21, 2012
funny that I ever have thought I knew what the future held. I thought I was rooted. I did.
Living here fulfills so many lifelong dreams. We actively sought this solitude, this woodsy hideaway. I dreamed of a place with year-round creeks, woods, pastures, a big weathered barn. My son climbs to the top of his own personal mountain and throws rocks. My daughters fence-sit in the best possible way: on ranch fencing overlooking their ponies' fields. So you can see, even I can see, why my sadness (grief) in the course of this move has surprised me.
Transplant shock.That's all it is.We spent our weekend in the creek and in the woods and in the garden. Spreading new roots.
Friday, May 11, 2012
|Gently down the stream.|
Our life is quiet now, audibly hush-hush, as we go about our gardening and our school days and our dance afternoons.
|Those curls! And my boy nearly two. What's a mom to do?|
|In case we must replace our current dilapidated/charming/beatrixpotter fence, I take pictures of others.|
|My five at Sarah's flute recital. The personalities!|
|Our own private recital in the apple trees.|
I drove past our old home this week and remembered that I did love it there. I loved it in spite of selling our previous, larger, adored Dutch Colonial home. My realization? I don't miss the 1898 converted church (even when the construction projects here are on hold. Again.). I miss the sense of neighborliness. I miss the buzz of the grange hall activities and the Thursday senior luncheons at the lodge across the road. I miss our neighbors who don't live there anymore, and whose leaving I mourned before we decided to buy this wonderful acreage.
|The swallows (?) finding a birdhouse left behind by previous owners. Glad I didn't move it.|
But it might bring new adventures and that elusive perspective.