Too Many Pots on the Stove

Okay, so there have been a lot of changes going on around here. And I mean A LOT. Hence, the unfortunate absence on my part. I left and dealt with a new [temporary] home, new people, new streets, unemployment, a new type of alone... I came back to a new house, people I missed, kind-of-new streets, a new job, and again, a different type of alone. I have come to truly appreciate a characteristic in myself that I always knew was there: adaptability.

I went from a city of over 100,000 to a township of maybe 300. It's not like I grew up in the city or anything. But I was there just long enough to appreciate the amenities a city has to offer: organic grocery stores with local foods and that trademark smell that organic grocery stores always seem to carry, a kick-ass three-story public library, cultural variety and anonymity. But it still lacked the things I came to realize I needed: familiar faces, my sisters, family, a reliable babysitter and a network.

We lived apart from my husband for over 45 days. And then in February we moved into our new-old house in said little community, and it has been a long three months. Since moving in, we've basically been living on the second  floor only as walls have been put up and painted, bathrooms were updated and "stuff" was shifted from room to room to room. Mr. Dude has recently been painstakingly sanding the main level's original 1920 wood floors, and we've been holing up in the second floor like a bunch of squatters. But now, I feel like a fog has lifted: the floors are cured, we have a living room again, we can breathe deeply and start to go finally through boxes that have been taped up for over three years. My laptop is back up and running, summer is almost here and life is feeling good.

Being in a small town, though, is showing me its wonders. The grocery store is -- in one word -- adorable. It used to be a dry goods store, and still has what appear to be the original oiled, wooden floors and tin ceilings, and is only four blocks away. Someone has taken over an empty lot and filled it with irises. There are old, giant trees on nearly every single block. And it's really only 20 minutes from Sidney.

I don't know who is responsible for all this, but it's just lovely.

I want to sit here but don't know who owns this place...

These are the street markers... kind of easy to miss at first.

A glimpse of home.

Now that our possessions are slowly eeking their way to where they're supposed to be in our home, I am also going to soon have some creative space back for sewing, cooking, writing, milling about and general after-work wine-drinking/creative thinking. And I hope and pray with fingers crossed that will have me back on here more frequently, writing and sharing.

And to top it all off, this is yet another pot on the stove we're dealing with (pun intended):