There's No Place Like...

Monday, June 22, 2015

People like to say that blogs exist to chronicle their life, or document ideas, or share exciting events.
But they lie.

Blogs exist for the same reason that holidays exist: they point out just how fast time goes and GOOD LORD HAS IT BEEN A MONTH ALREADY/Quick Get the Tree Up/HOW AM I TURNING <Insert age here>?

Life here in our little house has been crazy busy this past month, but I'm beginning to believe that that's more of a personality trait and less of a temporary circumstance.   Weddings, house improvements, family get-togethers, baking orders, doctor's appointments, and all the little daily tasks (I'm looking at you, LAUNDRY) coupled with the fact that I have crazy energy some days and other days getting out of bed takes two hours and an effort worthy of a trophy, makes blogging fall to the bottom of the 'to do' list more than it probably should.    Somehow, it seems so selfish to take the time to write about ME when I'm staring at a sink full of dishes and the dog is hovering suspiciously around the door looking shifty.  

Because we all know that dog-by-doorway is akin to toddler-being-quiet:  Nothing good can come of it. 

Still, as crazy as it gets, life is good.  Our house is filled with sunshine and warmth, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the sound of children laughing.   Our dog, probably due to the fact that she is white and fluffy and resembles a living, romping stuffed animal, has become an instant celebrity with the dozens of neighborhood kids and they've taken to ringing the doorbell at all hours of the day to beg, en masse, "if Lily can come out and play?"  
And even though it requires no less than 30 minutes of guided Ranger-Rick-esque supervision with our shy puppy and the overenthusiastic kids, the answer is always


There's still so much to do, so many boxes to unpack, so many pictures to hang and pieces of furniture to buy.  So many things to organize, and label, and create.  So many blog posts to write. 

But for now, I'm forcing myself to slow down.  To breathe. 

To take long slow walks and the time to sit outside on the (neatly-manicured) front lawn, basking in the sunshine for a whole 5 minutes - as much as a natural redhead can get without turning lobster red - and feeling the prickly softness of grass under my hands and feet for the first time in so many years. 

Don't get me wrong, it's still an internal struggle between my internal drive to DO ALL THE THINGS and my 2-hours-of-energy-per-day limitations, but I'm using it as a lesson in mindfulness and a chance to learn how to let the small things go, just a little.   And thankfully, Mr. DomesticatedRedhead doesn't mind, and even encourages this new philosophy.  

So if I am a bit lax on the posting for a while, you know why.   And if you're ever in the area, I encourage you to drop by and have a cup of coffee or tea at the kitchen counter, enjoying the sunlight and fresh-baked bread smell with me as we catch up.   Or we can sit outside on the lawn and enjoy the warmth together, running our hands through the blades of grass and taking the time to just "be".   There is light here, and love, and warmth, and I want to share it with anyone who needs a slice of it in their life too.  

Because for the first time, in the longest time, I don't just have "a place".

I have a home.  

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