What changed, and when, and how far

Have you ever felt yourself--or your life-- changing, just as it was happening? Sometimes that feeling has found me (on long car trips, especially), but so often the break-up or the move or the quitting of a job happens so fast there's no time for reflection. It takes months after for you to be able to look back and see what changed, and when, and how far.

Lately, I've been making time for reflection. It must be the change of seasons that's stirred this need to look around and take stock, to mark time before spring is in full swing. Last night, as we sat in our messy, chaotic shell of a house (in Binghamton), we reflected. A big transition is ahead of us-- the transition from urban to rural. One of us is skipping in circles and dreaming of an enormous garden (I won't say who). The other one is sad to leave the rich circle of musicians at our favorite bar (I won't say who), but eager to make connections in our new home. We're keeping grounded by thinking of what's certain: on evenings like this, we can take Diesel and wine and a guitar and sit by the fire until bedtime. Listening to the peepers.

It's been nearly a year since we "met" Gilbertsville (and I'm looking forward to introducing Gilbertsville to you, by way of a photo tour, just as soon as we're in). We've owned the house five months. This space, and all of you, have been helping me through this process, from November until now. I'm not sure I could've stayed focused and excited without the chance to wax ecstatic-- and go into exhaustive detail-- about all the work we've gotten done. Thank you all ever so much.

Just as keenly, I am looking forward to normal life again, and writing about all the things I started this blog to talk about. Cooking. Growing. Home-making. Sewing. Heaven knows there will be much home-making coming up this summer. For the house is almost done, but for now it's just a house. It's going to take doings-- creative, artful, decorative, happy doings-- to make it home.

Won't you come along?