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Lemonade

Everyone knows the old adage, “When life gives you lemons…” Oddly enough the same week a basket full of fresh picked lemons showed up from my Mom, my husband came to me with a decision about the future. He began to unpack the pros and cons of taking the job offered to him here. I began making lemonade, literally and figuratively. Everything he said felt like a dream from a Fellini film, untranslated and moving our dream further out of focus.

By the end of the conversation, pouring glasses of lemonade, we came to the conclusion that we would stay. Honestly, we don’t see ourselves here forever, and our plan for the north is more or less postponed, not forgotten. If anything is certain within our family, it’s that we were made for colder climates. The indian summers seem almost unbearable for us. 

With this newfound outlook on life, I spent the last week finding the long way home. Driving slow on back roads, getting lost and listening to whatever surrounds me. What I’ve learned over these last few years is that life will always feel a bit untranslated. The more I try to control its outcomes, the Lord continues to show us how finite we are in our thinking. How a greater plan will always overcome our small goals for ourselves. So as we sit here, drinking in the possible new future, I will be still and know God is in control.

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A Job Offer

Nothing will make you feel more helpless and human than the reality that daily life has overcome you. It’s hard for me to not think I’m invincible to some degree. I’m the smallest in my family, and usually the last person who gets asked to move a couch or be that extra hand of brute strength. I find myself telling them, “don’t underestimate me!”. This past week my physical idealism was pulled into focus when I found myself in the ER. Chest pain, fatigue, nausea, heart palpitations, coupled with elevated cardiac proteins and low blood pressure…I’m too young for this. Final diagnosis: pleurisy.  A condition that effected the likes of Ringo Starr, Benjamin Franklin and Catherine de Medici. In layman’s terms it means, your lung(s) is swollen to such a degree that it presses on the organs around it. Painful and a complete killjoy.  On the road to recovery with the upside is it has given me a few days to think more about the other whammy of February, a job offer. My husband got a very interesting proposition his past month. An offer to stay here in Tennessee and build a really promising financial future for our family. What a game-changer. He would be starting in summer of next year and later down the road be taking over a family business. We will be making our trip to Vermont in April and a decision, stay or go, by May 1st. Everything is still dizzying, so bear with me as we contemplate the next steps. In the meantime, we’ll be in prayer as to where our family should be. Jeremiah 29:11 is on repeat in my head. “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Thank you all for continuing to invest your time and prayer in our family. Feeling hopeful.

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Thirty.

I’ll be turning thirty this year. Nothing like the turnover of the decades to gain a little retrospection. Food for thought. Do you feel you are the same person you were ten years ago? I mean really think about that. What has changed? The job, the friends, the city…or something deeper? I’ve changed, a lot. I was a hopeless girl anachronism making careless decisions and choices with heavy consequences. There’s are days when I stumble over an old photo and I see myself. I feel for that version of me. I know I found a confidence that I wish I had then. An understanding of the world that can only come with time, experience and the ability to daily humble yourself.

It’s easy to wake up each morning in a deficit. You’ll then find yourself teetering between a bloated sense of entitlement and a deep hollow that echoes the pain and guilt of simply being human. Our spirits aren’t meant for these bodies, this world. One of the greatest truths I have learned over the last ten years us this: love when you’re on empty. Sometimes it seems unbearable to love the unloveable, the self-righteous, the liars, the cheats. Because it is, unbearable. You’re trying to do something that is completely against your human nature. I know that may sound cynical, but I assure you it’s not. There are two kinds of people in this world, those who go forward and those who stay. I truly think if you can stare down the last decade of your life and it feels no different, then you’ve wasted your time.

We spend so much energy trying to change people around us. Blasting our political, social, and religious views, hoping to sway the masses. But who wants to listen to you? You don’t even listen to yourself or digest your own thoughts before you force feed them to someone else. You quite possibly spent years of your life ignoring the signs, opportunities and change to maybe stay mediocre, or depressed, or simply just stuck. I want better for you. For me. I won’t stay on today.

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Snowed in.

Spent the last couple day snowed in. I laugh a little when I say that. Here in the Tennessee valley, the first sign of “snow” results in school closings, heavily salted roads, and days off from normal life. I’m not complaining, but as Vermont is moving closer in focus, I feel like I’ve already mentally prepared myself for the worst of weather. I’ve daydreamed pictures of the four of us parka-wrapped, boot-strapped and marching knee-high onward into school and work. Note to self: buy a parka.

I joked to my husband that this year is starting feel like a pregnancy. I suppose that would make our April trip much like an ultrasound. Sneak peak into a grainy future ha. I dream about it, prepare for it, but I can’t make the process speed up any faster. Patience is a virtue. Rinse and Repeat.   My Dad likes to periodically give us, what I like to call, our daily scoops of “Well ya knows”. These start out like this, “Well ya know they have a tax for everything,” or “Well ya know you’re going to miss having a Walmart or your family around.” or lastly, “It’s a Godless country and churches are liberal.” Both sides of our families have actually sat us down and given us the speech about, “If you feel like you’ve changed your mind, that’s completely fine. And if you get up there and don’t like it, just come on back.”  We shall see. But probably not going to happen :) Nice to feel loved, missed and wanted before you’ve left. Sweet love to all. (Going to try to get better about giving updates more thoroughly and often.)

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Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve. It seems grinch-worthy to say my holiday spirit waned weeks ago. Everyday has been met with a new to-do list, which had my resolve tested by mid-month. Packing up a house with two kids underfoot would fray any nerve, right? Maybe you’re different, stronger and for that I commend you. And if you’re free to help with the heavy-lifting, call me, I could use your blessings.

Let me note: my husband is a relentlessly hard worker with an unwavering work ethic. His job keeps him gone a majority of the day/night and with a swing shift, it’s hard to not feel like you’re in a constant tailspin. But here we are, alive, on December 24th. Closing date is six days away. SIX DAYS. Holy cow, where’d the time go. Only by God’s grace have we made it this far. I’m starting to experience the cornucopia of emotions that one goes through when changing chapters of life. I mean, come on guys, we’re ACTUALLY doing it. No one is more surprised then us.

So what is next for us in the new year? In April, we will be headed north for a few days for a scouting trip. Let us know if you would like us to bring you back some bonafide Vermont maple syrup or a hunch of cheddar. Consider it payment for being awesome and following us along this road. Seriously. Thank you all for your constant love and support, and Merry Christmas, from our (future) home to yours.

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An Offer.

I’ve been a bit hesitant to announce that we have an offer on our home. Partial because I didn’t want to eat my words if something fell through. I feel like now after the negotiations, inspections and papers that have been signed, I can make it official. The last and final step will be the closing date, December 30th. I’ve been nauseated with excitement, which has left me with a daily buzz of energy. We have sold a large majority of our furniture and belongings in preparations for the move. Knowing that we are going to have to downsize has actually been quite liberating for me. My living room’s echo has finally returned….I love it.

But in further honesty, I wish there was a way to just turn off the world and sleep until this phase is over. Part of the appeal of New England for me is the pace. Chattanooga has become a place of hipsters, overstimulation and chest-thumping. This isn’t the place of my childhood, a lot has changed. Which is fine for those who wish to stay here, it’s just not for us.  I want somewhere quiet, where for awhile I can be unknown and clean my slate. Reset the lines and breathe a fresher air.  We spend our whole year saving and planning for a vacation to escape our daily grind. But why? Why aren’t we living our lives like they matter, as if each day actually counts. In a place and pace that we can further enjoy the day to day, without it feeling like a chore? Some may argue that this mindset isn’t practical, but why can’t we make it practical?

Chris and I talked for years about one day retiring in New England. We painted mental pictures for each other of thick cable-knit sweaters, hot cups of soup and cider and growing old in a place that felt like it was aging with us. We didn’t want the new. So the conversations began to start; conversations of what ifs, hows, and whens. After some heavy number crunching and future planning, we found ourselves looking at each other saying, “Why are we waiting? Let’s do this now.” So here we are. The time between here and there seems to find itself in this perfect little waiting room for our family. The Lord has given us a simple peace about our decision. We don’t expect everyone to understand, and the onslaught of questions only solidifies how much people here care about us. We’ll miss you, but the adventure continues on for us elsewhere. And we hope you can find yours as well.

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Autumn bloom

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October

Autumn in upon us here in Tennessee. It’s hard to not feel a bit eager and anxious for a time and place when we will be north of here with the beautiful Fall foliage. Spring, summer and fall here are always warm and the weather seems to wear on me like an oversized wool coat. I’m not made for the heat. Don’t get me wrong, I was born and raised here in the south. Though, I will admit, I had a less than traditional southern upbringing. I have a set of northern parents, so my childhood was less sweet tea and grits; and more Vernors and spätzle.

October is nearly over and our home has been on the market for just a little over two weeks now. Several showings down. No offers. I don’t know how people do this for months to a year at a time. Makes me wish I had Peter’s silver ball, definitely would be tempted to pull the magic golden thread to speed up the time. Ok, about a thousand times, clearly the moral of the story has been lost on me ha. I know it may seem strange, but my affection for New England has grown as fast as it has faded for my home here. There are moments in my day when the thought of being there feels like missing someone and they are just waiting for me to arrive. Time is fickle thing, but I am confident we will meet the next step of our future soon. And if not, patience is a virtue worth learning again and again, right?

“True courage is mixed with circumspection, the kind of healthy skepticism that asks, 'Is this the best way to do this?' True cowardice is marked by chronic skepticism, which always says, 'It can't be done’.” - Williams J. Bennett

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Our little home, hoping it will make another family happy :)

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Let the anticipation commence.

There is something to be said about having your house staged for showings. I imagine seeing something at its best would strike a pang in anyone going through this process. The moments of hesitation, letting go of something that suddenly looks and feels perfect. I will definitely miss this sweet home. I have vivid memories of sitting at my kitchen table one night. The day had gotten away from us and we had picked up a pizza on the way home from the store. We were awaiting the arrival of our second child, two weeks late and the day was feeling even later. My daughter decided this was an opportune time to pick a fight and I was entirely too tired to entertain the hysterics of a three year old. As the conversation had begun to swell, I felt the most peculiar feeling. My water broke. In that moment, the three of us began racing around the house getting ready to head to the hospital.  Miscellaneous things seemed airborne as the scrambled to come together all happened in one slow-motioned moment. I can still see it. Feel it.  The anticipation of selling this house, starting our journey towards this dream, feels very familiar. The hurry up and wait. Maybe it’s because we aren’t strangers to a challenge. We know that everyday in a world like this is another opportunity to kick up the dust, just to watch it settle. So let’s see where we land, two showings this weekend. Prayers welcome :) 

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