Upon finding out that we were pregnant 11 weeks ago, Curt and I had a long talk and decided *sarcasm ahead* perhaps now was the best time in our lives to change as much as possible. House? Sell it. Rental house? Sell that, too. Job at the same place for 8 years? Quit that one and take one an hour away. Little tiny house on the farm? Buy it, strip it to the studs, and start all over again. Used to working with 100 people a day? Let’s quit that and have you do laundry. Oh man. If I live to see the end of this year with all my sanity it will truly be a thing to celebrate. I told you people- I need therapy. Or a massage therapist. Or a drink.
In all honesty, the move out to the farm is a much desired one. We never thought we’d be able to get out there so quickly, but now it seems as if September is very realistic. The little tiny house is exactly that: 25 feet across by 60 feet long with a full basement underneath. For you visual people, that’s the size of a 5×7 picture doubled. It is, in fact, a shoebox. I will be the pregnant young lady in the shoebox. It’s been completely gutted to the walls and the neighbor is taking it back up to drywall and then we’ll do the rest. Imagine getting to pick out new appliances and tile and paint, oh my! It’s actually all very exciting. We’ll live there for a year or so until we can raise the barn on the back of the property. After that, it’ll be a cute little cottage for Curt’s in-laws visits.
My dream…my ultimate dream…is to create a place where friends and family can come and stay and go as they please for rest and fellowship and campfires and movies on the barn siding and knitting and hayrides and gardens…where the city disappears and family dinners are common…where sledding is just over the ridge…and there are so many comfortable beds we lose count of the guests coming and going.
My fear…my biggest fear…is that we will move and be alone. That our friends will think the open invitation is simply a “polite gesture” and the phone calls will be few and far between and we will have this space and this beauty but only for ourselves. Will you come and rest and play and eat and laugh? If I move 30 minutes out of the city is it simply to far to be connected? Who will show up on my doorstep in need of a homemade strawberry milkshake? Three years ago I dreaded living in the loud city with neighbors who could see into my living room, but there is a part of me now that loves it. When I left Texas I packed up my newfound love for the sky and took it with me, from California I took the ocean, from Kentucky the rolling hills and thick grass, from Germany the mountains…and now the city. I always think I’m unaffected…but it’s true that all of these places- these homes- have shaped me. Grand Rapids and the neighborhood have taught me community and walking to the fireworks and people-watching on the front porch. And I have unexpectedly loved it.
The farm will be different…but it’s where I belong…it’s where we belong.
I guess I just have a whole lotta stuff to pack up.
Each time it’s a little more.
Happy Friday, everyone.
Sleep tight in your own little shoeboxes all across the U S of A.