A Windy Sunday

Soft heartfelt worship songs filled the air this blustery morning. They made me wish I had tried harder and had more patience with my guitar and wish I had formal training for this voice. My having an appreciation and love for music I attribute to my mom; who always has music of any sort playing. We snap, toe tap, finger wiggle, clap, sing (a bit off tune). We get our groove on when the song is right. We sway, twirl and shake when need be. And nothing beats dancing with your babies! This morning my heart swelled and bowed, and I am thankful for those "awe" moments.

It was windy today. The sun kept hiding behind light grey wisps of clouds. The older boy wanted to play outside as usual, and despite the many trips for a change out of wet "potty training" pants, he managed to get quite a bit of harmless mischief accomplished. The littler boy tries to keep up and chatters the whole time carrying on a conversation only he understands. Mr. Sir cleared another large area of the overgrowth and managed to rescue two small rabbits in the process; one from the stray dog we call, Gunner, that adopted us, the other from the lawn mower. The older boy decided we had better free them so they could, "find he's mommy so not be scared". My folks and the family friends, that are moving 12 minutes away, pruned the lifeless parts of the antique roses away, among other things. All with the cool breeze blowing through and music humming in the background..

We have big dreams for the garden which could quickly become a farm. One of my many dreams is to have a pumpkin patch with both orange and white pumpkins; like Cinderella's magic carriage - of course, and that dream may just come true. We might try our hand at melons and fruit trees at some point. There's so much to learn! Planing and growing seasons, cross-pollination, what can coexist with what etc. Another aspect of the farm dream is: livestock. We think we want goats (just a couple to start) and a milk cow and several chickens; as the boys eat half a dozen eggs a day... Oh boy. It begins to look overwhelming on paper er... screen. For now we will purchase the chicks to occupy the coop. This is what we dreamed of though! And as Mr. Sir says, "We're livin' the dream! Pursuing our happiness!". It can feel overwhelming, but in a good way. I love to research and read so it may as well be for something useful and fun!

My skill of list making comes in handy these days too! Groceries, meals, to do's, to plant's, to make a list for's, hopes-goals-dreams... One of my new favorite dreams is of the home we want to build on a piece of the land an eye shot from The Garden House. I've already named it, The Wisteria House, as the parcel has several wisteria plants blooming along the Southwest side. Its arms swirl gracefully around the pine trees and along the ground winding between wild white irises and brier. There's a tree in the Northwest corner, close to where the old homestead once resided, all crooked and knotted in the most whimsical way. I love this tree. It's my understanding this tree served as a canopy over a couple reciting their vows once. I imagine it was stunning. Everyone says the tree is dead now, but tomorrow I think I'll go lay hands on its mossed trunk and try to bring it to life again. I'll be sure to report back and progress made! *crosses fingers*

Blessings on the new work week!

For the Desmond's

We have entered into a new season of life. One chapter has closed; the next has opened. Our move to East Texas has been a long time coming... And really feels more like a great migration than just a move. Can I be honest? I feel like I can breathe again. What a blessing! Truly, this is the first time in a very long time that I can breathe. There's no stomach ache. No uneasy feelings. Just... peace.

This probably has just as much to do with preparing my heart for this journey; as it is just the serenity of "The Garden House". That's what I have affectionately named this place, "The Garden House" on Moon Road, although we are a hop, skip, and jump away from Moon Road... Everything about it is like that of a story. We jokingly say, "It's like living in the Shire". The breeze blows the trees and makes an ocean-like sound. The array of birds chirp and sing and squabble. Even the hornets seem to have a tune they play. The soft purple of the wisteria on the gazebo is wanting to burst any moment. And the thorns on the antique roses are starting to green.

The Garden House feels alive too. Like she sighed with relief when our boxes arrived. Settled. Secure. Home again. Like she knew this was the family that would live, eat, breathe here again. The family that would laugh, cry, sing, dance, and die here. I'm a woman of sentiment... and the idea of cutting our Christmas tree from this land makes my heart dance. I can already smell the mulling spices heating on the wood stove, and see the candlelit stockings hung nearby... The boys bounce on the trampoline now smiling and giggling. They walk in the grass and I just see the excitement of a new adventure in their eyes. Well, mostly mischief in Josiah's eyes, and the need of a nap in Jude's, but still... Possibilities.

There are still boxes to unpack, the garden needs tilled and planted, and there's still a few things on the list to check off, but finding a home isn't one of them. I'll always remember mom looking at pictures of The Garden House online and saying, "This is our house! THIS is the house God has for us.". And here we are. In the "happy place" we always imagined. What a privilege and a gift. Our needs have been met. And there are only God and the Desmond's to thank.