my family moved to this house when i was six months old and i lived here until i was eighteen, so for years and years, when i said home, i meant here. now, home moves with me and can also always be found with those i love. the house itself has undergone some massive changes since i lived here a decade ago (!). but the land is as familiar as the back of my hand – its grooves and nooks and sounds. so, a peek at the back, which i tromp through every day to feed the horses.
hi there ~ just to give a break to all the moving/adjusting/moody/crazy andrea posts, here’s a short one that’s strictly craft-related.
some of us are adjusting pretty quickly:
it’s amazing how echoes can change the feel of a place. i woke up this morning, not recognizing where i was, despite the familiar feel of the raspy spring-sprung sofa against my cheek… my apartment just sounds empty and it feels like what i knew of it, what i’d made of it for sure, is irrevocably gone. like it never was. i like to think though that these walls and floors and windows have absorbed the living i have done in it over the past three and a half years – the good and the bad, the heartbreak and the crazy happy joy and laughter. ah. too many emotions ~ and now, it’s in this half-state that just makes my heart ache to see and, surprisingly, hear the changes, the finality of it all.