This past week has been total insanity. My grandma's in the hospital undergoing dialysis, Bentley's cutting four new teeth, Olivia started Kindergarten, Chris went out of town, and I got some odd virus. I've been leaning very heavily on escapism to get me through. I read
These is my words, only a month late for book club. I LOVED it so much I was in desperate search of something else to keep me going. I attempted Chasing Harry Winston, but was really disappointed in the amount of foul language in just the first few pages. I turned my search for some more good fiction to the internet, and very happily I found more novels by Nancy E Turner, author of These is my words (did I mention that it is SO so good). I just finished the second novel in the series, Sarah's Quilt. Loved it! It was just the fix for not wanting to think about my own mess, as hers are far more adventurous.
Katie asked me the other day if our house was feeling like home yet? We are all moved in not a box in sight, pictures on the walls, but it doesn't feel like home, mot really. We still have so many things in storage and are still hoping to sell even in this bad market. I was sitting out on the porch last night, reading my book and listening to the cicadas, getting bitten all over by some apparently invisible mosquitoes. It felt like I was in some strange tropical forest, the humidity was so thick. Is this home? I don't know. How do you know when you have found home? My brother asked how many times we had moved since we've been married. I hadn't really counted in a while. Turns out its 11. We have moved 11 times in less than ten years. It will be 10 years this December and by then we may have moved a dozen times. I know it seems like it's our thing. But I really don't want it to be. I want to find home and stick there. And how do you find home any way? Is it just the last place you get to before you are sick of moving? Or is there hope for finding home and feeling so rooted there that no matter what happens you cannot leave it. Those books have got me thinking about home, could I be like Sarah Agnes Prine, and really love a place? I married a man with restless feet and that is not helping my situation.
Kindergarten has taken its toll on me, too. Olivia is really enjoying
it, especially now that she is on week two. And Bentley and I are enjoying some one on one time together. It is just such a huge adjustment for me. Mostly emotionally I think. I feel like my whole world has just turned topsy turvy. And I'm feeling very reluctant to dig into all this NEW going on around me.
So tell me, how do you feel about home. What makes a place home?