We are in the process of selling our “house” and moving into our first home. I know that may sound odd but stick with me. When I was growing up we lived for almost a decade in the mountains of West Virginia. When our Dad took a job in Iowa, being only 13, I reluctantly followed. Leaving those heavenly mountains, filled with it’s abundance of all things nature, we were plunged into vast, flat, middle America. The redeeming factor to this move was and continues to be the life long friends I made. However, we left our home and lived in another 3 houses before I left and married. All of them felt temporary, average, easily forgettable.
I never felt a deep connection with any of them……and there were quite a few. 5 houses with my parents, 3 houses with my first husband, 3 with my forever husband. And then, through a number of serendipitous events, we came to the house on Walton Lane. That’s right, Walton Lane.
After walking through the house and property, I could barely contain my passionate desire to move in immediately. No, it’s not fancy or big; there is simply a connection that feels like home. A place with the comfort that only trees can bring and land and space to create a life. A place that I can see us growing older and wiser; where my daughter can come with her future family and feel like they have come to rest and reflect. A place where my creativity can expand in ways I might never have imagined.
It’s true, Dorothy, there is no place like home. I can’t wait to get there….