pages and pages

I am making lists. Pages and pages of lists. Loves. Fears. The life I see when I close my eyes and breathe in the rosemary. There are a few things that will not change - I will be a wife to my husband, a mother to my child, a daughter, a sister. Everything else though? Everything else could go.

shallow roots

We've been talking, Mister and I, about changing it all. Purging.  Choosing.  Shrinking.  Simplifying. How much, after all, do we really need to live? How much space? How much time? How much money? The answers are surprising us both.

home

We just came home. After a week on the other side of the country, in that town that used to be home...I find myself untethered and wondering just where it is that we belong.

This house isn't it. It doesn't fit right, doesn't feel right. Doesn't smell right. The feeling of what home will be has been so ungraspable for so long. But just a moment, glimpsed here out my kitchen window, of little one and her daddy doing the rounds, watering our neglected plants and rediscovering the corners of our space brought it a little closer into focus. They are my home. Right here where our feet are planted.

But here is the thing about us - we are moveable, adaptable people. I think our job is to make ourselves home so that the right place, wherever we find it, will recognize us when we get there.

nap time

today it is sweet coffee and soft yarn.