House-iversary
It's one year that I've been in this house. What can I say? Time flies? I can tell you that it was hotter a year ago than it is today, but probably not as muggy. It was one of the longest days of my life, and not entirely the smoothest one. I remember feeling with increasing certainty, as we tried to wedge all my stuff into this Hobbit House, that I had absolutely bought the wrong house.
I had friends who helped me, without whom I could not have done any part of what I did. Lisa, Katrene, Sandy, Jill, Kathy packed and directed and organized and worked. They made sure I stayed hydrated. They made sure I ate. They put arms around me when I began to fall apart. Many times I was able to keep going only because they did. And they kept going at times when I could not. I did not want to move into this house. I did not want to do much of what I had to do over the last 2 years, but I learned, finally, that sometimes you simply have to do what you have to do. I also learned that sometimes you have to ask for help, and accept it when it comes.
A lot has happened this year. Some of it's been good. Some of it's been bad. Most of it has been hard. All of it has had its reasons. I have fallen in love this year - with this house, with my garden, more deeply than ever with my dogs, certainly more deeply with my horse, with this yard and the work it requires of me, with the me who does that work. I have fallen more deeply in love with my oldest friend, who has believed in me, encouraged me, worked beside me, and taught me and given me so much. He never fails to hold up a mirror and show me my own strength. And he never stops raising the bar, and then showing me his faith that I can clear it.
Time passes. Life happens. I've felt as if I've taken a year off from my life, just trying to get my equilibrium back, but this house tells me otherwise. This little Hobbit house, this tiny little, cute, quaint, and quirky building, reminds me today of where I was a year ago, and refuses to permit me to overlook the progress I've made. I planted seeds only because I had to. But I've gotten to watch the garden grow. I bought the right house after all. I am right where I belong.
I had friends who helped me, without whom I could not have done any part of what I did. Lisa, Katrene, Sandy, Jill, Kathy packed and directed and organized and worked. They made sure I stayed hydrated. They made sure I ate. They put arms around me when I began to fall apart. Many times I was able to keep going only because they did. And they kept going at times when I could not. I did not want to move into this house. I did not want to do much of what I had to do over the last 2 years, but I learned, finally, that sometimes you simply have to do what you have to do. I also learned that sometimes you have to ask for help, and accept it when it comes.
A lot has happened this year. Some of it's been good. Some of it's been bad. Most of it has been hard. All of it has had its reasons. I have fallen in love this year - with this house, with my garden, more deeply than ever with my dogs, certainly more deeply with my horse, with this yard and the work it requires of me, with the me who does that work. I have fallen more deeply in love with my oldest friend, who has believed in me, encouraged me, worked beside me, and taught me and given me so much. He never fails to hold up a mirror and show me my own strength. And he never stops raising the bar, and then showing me his faith that I can clear it.
Time passes. Life happens. I've felt as if I've taken a year off from my life, just trying to get my equilibrium back, but this house tells me otherwise. This little Hobbit house, this tiny little, cute, quaint, and quirky building, reminds me today of where I was a year ago, and refuses to permit me to overlook the progress I've made. I planted seeds only because I had to. But I've gotten to watch the garden grow. I bought the right house after all. I am right where I belong.