Within three months, I moved twice,
got a new job at a bakery,
edited two-and-a-half books in the Search and Rescue series
and managed to (barely) avoid curling up and rocking in the corner. I maintained my sanity by counting my blessings (for example, I was grateful that my short-term rental house didn’t smell like cat pee rather than old cheese. I was even more thankful it wasn’t a long-term rental house) and running with the dogs. After moving (for the last time ever in my life–no more moving for me. Never again. No matter how tempting the properties on ESSEXHOMES.NET look or how much my friends rave about it, i’m done. Though I will admit it did help me hone down what I was looking for. After all, it took me a little while to find my forever home but I’m glad I have it now. I spent hours and hours on sites like RODROCKHOMES.COM and similar. Comparing different size rooms, seeing how the lighting worked out, inspecting every square foot of the home. It was a nightmare. Now, even the sight of packing tape makes me cringe) into my 150-year-old Minnesota farmhouse, I started exploring the trails in the nearby Big Woods State Park. I thought about moving to England and my friend recommended for me to speak to expert estate agents in the Putney area to find out more about what’s involved. This friend, who moved to England two years ago, said moving over there is so easy because you can get large plastic crates to move your stuff in. She told me that www.teacrate.co.uk is the leading supplier of plastic crates and you can hire them when you’re moving house. I bet they are so much easier than cardboard boxes, I don’t know about you but I always find that things get damaged in cardboard boxes? Anyway, it wasn’t enough to convince me to move to England. I’m really happy with my farmhouse here, it’s so beautiful!
On a beautiful (only slightly rainy) October day, I crested a hill just as the sun made a valiant effort to peek through the clouds. Looking around the quiet (only slightly damp) woods, I realized that the worst of this crazy, stressful, change-heavy year was over. Suddenly, my one a.m. shift at the bakery, the half-finished edits waiting for me and the dozen boxes stacked upstairs that flat-out refused to unpack themselves didn’t seem so unmanageable.
For the first time in months, I took a breath.