I’ve never met a person who responds to the idea of moving with glee and excitement. It’s more like – Moving…groan. I’m one of those groaning people.
Home has always been important to me as a refuge for myself and those I hold dear. Moving is more than packing boxes. It’s moving on.
Yes, part of moving means sorting through things that get packed, get donated and that get tossed. But the other part is sorting through the past and figuring out what to take with and what to leave behind. This house holds many memories for me.
It’s the scene of the end of my marriage.
It’s where I picked myself up, dusted myself off and found myself again.
It’s where I met and fell in love with Farmer Bob. It’s where together we designed and built a home with our hearts and hands.
That said, it’t time to move on. Yes, we need more space and we want to get our hands dirty on the farm but it’s also time to move into a place where neither of us has any history. Into a place that we can make a home together. So, let the garden put on a show. I’m ready for the next adventure!
I do have a few parting words of wisdom – Do yourself a solid and get yourself some good, strong boxes. Saves your sanity and your dishes!