May 8, 2012
We have returned from the weekend away, bringing Forrest home with us. A sense of fulfillment and completion for me, having my family together as a team. The beginning of a well earned summer break for him. Some break. Building, fencing, digging ditch. May sound hard to many, but you know we love it all.
He returns to a house that looks the same as it did when he moved out how long ago, when we all moved out, renting out our home and moving to the Little Cabin to increase our cash flow, trying to create a change that seemed so slow to come. Since then, we moved to around five times, including 1400 miles to northern Washington. And then back again. What a lot of work! And I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Though hiring a moving service seems like a tempting option.) Put super simply, it was all good.
Change. It came, in a big way, and beautifully, and reminds me we are in constant state of change, only sometimes we don’t see it, and other times we may deny it.
And yet, on the surface, it appears we are right where we started. Same beautiful house, hand crafted, all our years of woodwork and refinement, rough and rustic though it still feels, just the way we like it. Warm, welcoming. Few come into our home without noting how “comfortable” it is. The pictures hanging on the wall just where they belong. Sofas, pots, pans, everything in place as it once was. Sounds of the woodstoves crackling, one to heat the house against morning temperatures in the teens, the other to cook our breakfast, Forrest’s favorite in a big cast iron skillet ready to be set in the oven. Steller’s Jays pecking at the same feeder even they too remember right where it used to be.
And the view from the window as it has been for half our days here: white. For just when we were settling into the balmy spring that felt like flatlands, enticing me to think I might manage growing a tomato or pepper, we are reminded. These are high, harsh mountains. And that little bit of snow might just be the reminder we need to show us where we belong. Home. Here and now. We’ll see about tomorrow.
Much more to say, my head seems swirling. I can’t wait to show Forrest the things that are just as he remembers, and have changed so much. Off to stoke the fires, stir the pot, and wake the boys.