It would be quite an understatement to say we live a bit of a ways away. Far away from anything.
Your entire day is planned around one car ride. A serious time commitment for miles driven. Railroad tracks bumpity, bumped, bumped, bumped over [3 sets] or even planning around the train schedule.
There is no simple jaunt to the corner grocer.
No gas station or 7-11 within less than the miles equal to 2 gallons of gas - there is virtually nothing out here.
You want milk? You are on a search party mission to the pantry, the fridge and your stash of cleaning/hygiene products for what you need. You write lists constantly. I write them in my dreams. You do not want to make this trip more than once. Nor do you want to waste the gas having to go back out because . . .oops! You just realized your dog actually can't live on cicadas alone. As much as she thinks she can ::ick:: kibble is a necessity.
Hey, I am not complaining. We could be living in our cars, somewhere in suburbia. ::don't think that idea wasn't discussed. I would've had the studio.Ozcarz. Wallene would've been living with Dad in the condo/Murphyvan::
As it is, we got a pretty nasty shock in the middle of April and were faced with moving out of our home in 15 days. It's too much to explain, and honestly not pertinent to anyone but Steven and I, so I won't go into the juicy details. Okay?
Just one more hiccup in the life that is ours. A life neither of us would change, we know, because the pay offs have always far outweighed the heartache, the laughs drown out the tears and the love deepens with each passing day.
It's what it is all about.
I think the most frustrating thing for us right now is missing the familiar.
Our home. Our friends. My doctors and hospital. Our church. Our family, who are now even further away. . .
Lying in bed in the early morning darkness I fret. Thinking of everything we have lost.
Then I roll over and see my husband. I give him a quick kiss good morning, walk out to put on coffee, only to trip over Spot. Laughing [okay, cursing under my breath, but imagine me laughing if you will, as it paints a much prettier picture] I pick myself up and notice our youngest has fallen asleep on the sofa. I walk over and tug the comfort up over her shoulders. I give her a quick kiss too, because by now I can hear the shower running and I know that Steven has to leave by 4:30 am for his two hour commute to work.
I grab a cup of coffee and go outside.
As I sit on the back porch, listening to the rain and the train whistle in the distance, I realize that my familiar is here.
My familiar is wherever they are and I am with them.
I haven't lost anything.
Suddenly I don't miss Sterling, VA so much and I realize Louisa is starting to feel a little bit more like home.
And I smile. Again.
Life is a gift so smile loudly Tadpoles.
We'll see you on the flipside.
xo Janine [SkippyMom]