Well, friends, I'm back online.
It's been over a month without the internet, and I've actually enjoyed it, grabbing wi-fi where I could, spotty phone connections, and simply silence.
Now our phone works, our internet is back, and I can update you on "the Move."
It's been wonderful.
I keep wanting to pinch myself! The green, birdsong, frogs croaking, fresh smells and clean air are such a privilege!
I walk up the road and view the rolling hills and banks of treetops. Even though I grew up here and have visited over the years I see differences, or perhaps I appreciate the place all the more.
May is a lovely month to move. The first hay has grown, the lilacs are spent. Iris is flagging the passers-by. Grass is so verdant that it takes up the balance of each week, mowing it.
The weather has been gentle, and Ed and I have driven countless van-loads of things worth saving to our new place. We have purged and said good-bye to tons of stuff...the things that were weighing us down.
We hope the stuff finds purpose elsewhere.
A party has been celebrated already---a wedding shower. It was fun to get the china out and pour the punch in Turkish tea glasses. Berries and whipped cream were on the menu. And coffee.
The new house finally knows us. Its sounds are familiar now, and the steps and paces are becoming automatic.
The nestlings above the porch door fledged on Sunday morning, early. All three took off in a rustle of feathers when Blackberry came through the screen door to join us for our morning coffee.
Their little yellow beaks were ready to start feeding themselves.
Kiwi and Predicate loll on the wooden floors. They seem to feel ownership too. It takes swift vigilance to keep Kiwi inside each morning. He feels the need to police the chipmunk population. Birds are on his menu too, so we keep him frustrated.
There is a birch tree in the front yard. It is quite big. My uncle planted it back in the '50's when he built the house. It was a symbol of the old land, Sweden, for these transplanted folk. My grandparents planted a birch in their yard when they came from Sweden back in the 1800's.
I feel a connection to it, anomaly that it is, surrounded by dozens of old oaks. It symbolizes coming home.
I do feel at home.
Corgi Hollows is truly home.
Looking for your visit, soon. Come for coffee.
It's been over a month without the internet, and I've actually enjoyed it, grabbing wi-fi where I could, spotty phone connections, and simply silence.
Now our phone works, our internet is back, and I can update you on "the Move."
It's been wonderful.
I keep wanting to pinch myself! The green, birdsong, frogs croaking, fresh smells and clean air are such a privilege!
I walk up the road and view the rolling hills and banks of treetops. Even though I grew up here and have visited over the years I see differences, or perhaps I appreciate the place all the more.
May is a lovely month to move. The first hay has grown, the lilacs are spent. Iris is flagging the passers-by. Grass is so verdant that it takes up the balance of each week, mowing it.
The weather has been gentle, and Ed and I have driven countless van-loads of things worth saving to our new place. We have purged and said good-bye to tons of stuff...the things that were weighing us down.
We hope the stuff finds purpose elsewhere.
A party has been celebrated already---a wedding shower. It was fun to get the china out and pour the punch in Turkish tea glasses. Berries and whipped cream were on the menu. And coffee.
The new house finally knows us. Its sounds are familiar now, and the steps and paces are becoming automatic.
The nestlings above the porch door fledged on Sunday morning, early. All three took off in a rustle of feathers when Blackberry came through the screen door to join us for our morning coffee.
Their little yellow beaks were ready to start feeding themselves.
Kiwi and Predicate loll on the wooden floors. They seem to feel ownership too. It takes swift vigilance to keep Kiwi inside each morning. He feels the need to police the chipmunk population. Birds are on his menu too, so we keep him frustrated.
There is a birch tree in the front yard. It is quite big. My uncle planted it back in the '50's when he built the house. It was a symbol of the old land, Sweden, for these transplanted folk. My grandparents planted a birch in their yard when they came from Sweden back in the 1800's.
I feel a connection to it, anomaly that it is, surrounded by dozens of old oaks. It symbolizes coming home.
I do feel at home.
Corgi Hollows is truly home.
Looking for your visit, soon. Come for coffee.
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