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One afternoon earlier this summer, when the heat was getting to all of us, and we needed an activity to kill that last hairy hour before supper, we found a fairy door. It was in our back yard, at the base of a tree we'd walked by about a 1000 times before.
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A couple weeks ago we had a heat wave. It seems hard to believe writing this now, a mere 14 days later the same sun feels so different and the grass is wet and cold in the mornings. Things change so quickly.
It feels like we've been moving since one day last march and it's been a long six months. We staged our old place, listed and sold it within the space of a week. I feel like my head has been in a whirlwind since then and were only now starting to find a rhythm along with the box of tablecloths and our winter boots. We moved to a space with a bit more grass and a lot more trees. Somehow by the grace of God we found the perfect spot for us that has a window over the sink and a wrap around porch; both of which I had on my side of the "wildest dreams" column during our "lets just imagine what the next place will look like" phase. We’ve spent a lot of long hours this summer sitting outside and giving thanks for how much this change has really brought to us.
Almost 10 years ago I started blogging. The first few posts I wrote were about the seasons; about the snow melting, about the robins coming out, about time passing. It seems funny to be starting over and writing about the weather again, but if I have a muse, the seasons are it. I feel alive in the in the changing weather, I like to let my back drip with sweat in the garden, to feel my cold toes in my skates on the canal in the winter, to have my hair blow all over or be wet with rain on a long run. I say this with the luxury of not living in the middle of a desert or frozen tundra. But I think generally it's a shame to not let ourselves feel emotions and places and spaces as they come and that to deny ourselves those moments is to really miss out on the little things - even if they make us feel uncomfortable.
I have a lot of things I want to come out in this blog version 2.0. I want to write more freely. I want to chronicle some hobbies. I have some dreams of hand dyed fabrics, and dried flowers and apple turnovers, of little skirts for girls, and dresses for me and about living more sustainably with what we already have. This is a new chapter, a new season about this life on our little hill.
Sincerely, Emily Anne