Over Thanksgiving weekend, we moved into the fifth home of our marriage. It wasn't by choice; the home we were renting was foreclosed upon. I call this house "Cozy Peak" and it suits us quite well. We miss some of the storage space we had before, but overall, we've settled in nicely.
We had a beautiful solstice tree and rang the new year in quietly. The teenager got a new computer in December and is thrilled. Mr. Q got new cymbals for his drum kit. The littles got a great set of wooden blocks. My youngest girl turned three and the baby cut six teeth. The big kid (she's four) learned her entire alphabet and can write many of them. The youngest girl surprised me by writing the letter H on the living room wall.
I'm trying to get into a weekly routine. We have music lessons in our home on Mondays; in the afternoons, I hope to go to the library. Tuesday is an at-home day. Wednesday is pottery for the teenager and errands for me and the littles. Thursday is reserved for social activities and Friday will be another at-home day if we aren't busy with appointments. I'm hoping to hike or spend a significant amount of time in the wilderness twice a month.
My nights are filled with work and house hunting. Every week, I get more and more anxious about moving home. My heart is starting to ache for the green of New England, the snow that I am missing this year and the change of seasons.
So many wonderful things have happened over the last two months; most of them were the little expressions of love that melt my heart. Unfortunately, I didn't write many of them down, so I can't share the stories. They are forever tucked away inside my heart and hopefully they'll carry me through.
