out on the Goodly Homestead

         It hasn't been as long as it seems since we moved to this old house out in the middle of a cow field. Some days, I've been wonderous about how it all came to be -- other days, I've been overwhelmed by the opposite feeling of "how in the hell did this happen?' Recently, when all the kids were here, the meter swung all the way to bliss.

There's been a lot of work. I like work, so that's fine, but there's not been much time for the finer things like reading, spinning, and regular meals. I got down to 114 lbs before I noticed that my clothes weren't fitting like they once did. I weighed myself on the scales at Tamarack, expecting the usual 120 or so. Loosing six more lbs was not in any plan I ever had, so i decided to begin to gain. All I had to do was reverse everything i usually did. So I accepted second helpings, ate until I was just past full, rather than just under full as is usual. I chose condiments that are known to pack on pounds and added the gravy to the mashed potatoes. It only took me a couple of weeks to pack on another 5 lbs. I feel like a stuffed turkey.

Winter's coming on and people who know this house tell us we're in for something. Drafty and rudely cold, the old stove in the living room burns 4 logs at a time and still doesn't warm the place. The stove was made by the man who owned the farm and I wonder at the construction. We'll block off the upstairs and caulk as many crevices as possible and hang heavy curtains over the windows.

Memories of the past few months of endless work make me tired, but plans for the future give me energy. Come Christmas, the meter will again spin all the way to bliss as the kids come home for a few days. Lights will glow on a Christmas tree that actually fits inside the house. Emmett will spend too much time playing with the piano and Maria will spend too much time on Christmas movies and Twitter. My girls will laugh a lot and take pictures of each other taking pictures of each other.

Right now, right this minute, a moon, one sign shy of being full, is rising in the sky, hanging bright over the deck. We live in a house with a deck. And two porches and a summer room and views out of every window. We live in a house with enough bedrooms for the whole family who no longer live together. We live in a house that seems to want to watch grey and white mint-new episodes of Gunsmoke and Maverick. And me, I'm trying to catch up to myself. It seems like I've been gone awhile.