A Farewell of Sorts
It’s been nearly a year since I’ve written. As the months yawned on since last June, I couldn’t think how to synthesize what I wanted to say.
So the long and short of it, is that we are moving on from our little house on the hill. Not without some reluctance, but also not without a lot of excitement and expectation. We’re ready for the change.
And so, this writing about 129—the physical address of that little house on the hill—is going to shift and change. My world is still a tangle of twigs and vines, but my gps is a moving thing. We’re living in temporary (but splendid) digs while we contemplate where to put down roots again after the little house sells. It goes on the market officially this week. We’ve been madly painting and scrubbing, weeding and raking. We needed to pay full respect to the place we love before handing it on to the next owners.
Our home of 17 years always felt so permanent. Everything we did there we thought we were doing for the duration. So why leave it? Because we’re ready for something different. Because the making of a place and a home is as fun as living within its embrace.
Our new home is also facing a meadow, and it’s only a few minutes from my parents and my brother’s family. The horse is a mile up the road, and I’ve set up a new studio that I’m excited about. Art and life continue to be at my crossroads, though my crossroads are new.