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4,329 Posts
Finally home. I've only been in my home two weeks since late August, and I've been through a war since last I was back.
I love my home. I do. My house is small and modest, but it was mine from the moment I stepped inside. In fact, the first time I saw it, someone outbid me. So, I moved to this town and had to walk by here and know strangers were living in my house! Okay, okay, irrational. I know. But the next time it went on the market, just a couple years later, I was in a position to buy. I have devoted myself to making it both cozy and quirky, with my favorite place being my writing room with its mural, which I cajoled an artist friend into painting. Poor thing never even knew how many times one woman could add details that simply must be added! But it's my creative place, my happy zone, and now I'm back.
When last I was here, the pond my husband dug was not buried under snow, and now we have to trust that the frogs made it through okay -- and that it really is underneath the snow. Snow? What snow? Two words -- Northern Minnesota! (Listened to a radio station out of Hibbing for a while.)
I'd missed my grandmother, and knew she needed me back here. She has now, with the loss of my mother, buried both of her children. It broke my heart these last several months to know she was dealing with the knowledge my mother was dying. I know I was where I needed to be -- caring for my mom -- but I really wished I could be cloned. Being an only child starts out peachy -- more presents at Christmas -- but then comes a day when you wish there was a sibling to help out, if only to listen. Or a night when the nurse's aide comes to tell you that your mother is gone, and you know you have to be the one to call your mother's mother...
I took two of my dogs with me when I left to care for my mother -- oh, and my spouse. The third dog and the cat who hates me stayed here. I can't really say how the cat fared, because she is hiding from me, but my hotdog dog looks like she's about to burst her all-natural casing. Right now she is curled up in bed with my grandmother, and I'd like to imagine they're both glad we're home. They seemed to be, but they could be faking it.
I'd looked at the helpful map when I ordered my Kindle and knew that there would be Sprint coverage in theory. At least 1X. I will admit that as we approached town I kept Trixie in my lap and started to panic as we got closer and there were still no bars. But shortly before I saw the town's water tower the bars shot up. It was pretty joyous as the definite sign I was home is always welcome, and to know Trixie would still be getting her NYT and I could still buy more books than I could reasonably read in years -- made of awesome!
And, yay, my Oberons were waiting for me.
Did I mention I'm happy to be home?
I love my home. I do. My house is small and modest, but it was mine from the moment I stepped inside. In fact, the first time I saw it, someone outbid me. So, I moved to this town and had to walk by here and know strangers were living in my house! Okay, okay, irrational. I know. But the next time it went on the market, just a couple years later, I was in a position to buy. I have devoted myself to making it both cozy and quirky, with my favorite place being my writing room with its mural, which I cajoled an artist friend into painting. Poor thing never even knew how many times one woman could add details that simply must be added! But it's my creative place, my happy zone, and now I'm back.
When last I was here, the pond my husband dug was not buried under snow, and now we have to trust that the frogs made it through okay -- and that it really is underneath the snow. Snow? What snow? Two words -- Northern Minnesota! (Listened to a radio station out of Hibbing for a while.)
I'd missed my grandmother, and knew she needed me back here. She has now, with the loss of my mother, buried both of her children. It broke my heart these last several months to know she was dealing with the knowledge my mother was dying. I know I was where I needed to be -- caring for my mom -- but I really wished I could be cloned. Being an only child starts out peachy -- more presents at Christmas -- but then comes a day when you wish there was a sibling to help out, if only to listen. Or a night when the nurse's aide comes to tell you that your mother is gone, and you know you have to be the one to call your mother's mother...
I took two of my dogs with me when I left to care for my mother -- oh, and my spouse. The third dog and the cat who hates me stayed here. I can't really say how the cat fared, because she is hiding from me, but my hotdog dog looks like she's about to burst her all-natural casing. Right now she is curled up in bed with my grandmother, and I'd like to imagine they're both glad we're home. They seemed to be, but they could be faking it.
I'd looked at the helpful map when I ordered my Kindle and knew that there would be Sprint coverage in theory. At least 1X. I will admit that as we approached town I kept Trixie in my lap and started to panic as we got closer and there were still no bars. But shortly before I saw the town's water tower the bars shot up. It was pretty joyous as the definite sign I was home is always welcome, and to know Trixie would still be getting her NYT and I could still buy more books than I could reasonably read in years -- made of awesome!
And, yay, my Oberons were waiting for me.
Did I mention I'm happy to be home?