Things are settling down and this house is starting to feel like our house. Everyday gets better and better and truthfully I contemplate a little guilt for my happiness. I’m really so very happy. It feels strange to live in a place that I want to live, a place I could easily live the rest of my life.
We live in New Hampshire, in a quaint old village. Our house was built in 1820 and is nestled amongst other old rambling houses. We can walk to the library and general store but have enough land to have some hens and an animal or two.
As with all our moves there has been stress and truth be told our house is in need of some updating. I overheard my daughter describe this house to her friend as 1800 meets 1983. But the stress and drama is short lived as the sky is blue and the grass is green. And the little babbling brook in the back has mossy rocks and an abundance of ferns growing alongside it.
I don’t have any good pictures as I’ve been lazy about the camera. But soon!
Instead I will tell you it’s really nice to think about extended family and picnics and how to spend the weekend with them. And about how I can trade magazines with my mother and how I told my brother I will help him inventory all his horse tack in the barn. These are such nice things.
I took this picture of my mother and her brother from her house and promised up and down that I will bring it back. And I will. I will drive the 1.5 hours and hand it right to her, because I can!
My mother is the cutest little lady and Unc J though you are so gosh darn cute in this picture I just want to tell you don’t stand so close to the hind quarters again as it makes me nervous.
Hopefully my blog will be back to normal soon with less ranting about wild ferns and more serious life stuff like what I made with Martha glitter and how my oldest threw her retainer out into the grossest bag of garbage ever.