The move is scheduled for August 1st.
This entire process has been so fast, so insane, filled with some days of complete sadness as we contemplate leaving our first (and we thought, last) home (and all that implies), and many days of absolute joy imagining what our new lives will look like.
I have taken trip after trip to the new place. Shown friends and family all the loveliness inside and out. Hundreds of possible layouts have danced through my head and now I can’t see myself living anywhere else. It is getting agonizing, the wait. Every tiny delay seems exaggerated and any bump feels like a mountain.
I have purposely not talked about the new place, or taken many pictures. I don’t want to jinx anything, but now the day approaches and I can’t help but be excited.
So here it is! So tiny looking from the front, which makes it even cooler. years of delivering furniture made me despise stairs, so as with our fist home, this one has a main level and a basement. One set of stairs is plenty. The exterior color is one of my favorites and the patio/porch, while significantly smaller than our current home, is the right size for a couple of rocking chairs and a bench.
One of my favorite thing about most of the Daybreak homes is the use of wood rather than vinyl. The cedar posts holding up the porch have beautiful cracks in them, are slightly rough to the touch. I love running my fingers over them. Silly, I know.
Once we are actually IN the house, I will provide more pictures. All the images I currently have are so dark, and fail to show how great the space really is.
Also, anyone (near or far) who wants to visit, come on over. We have space and space to share. I promise to feed you good food.
P.S. Happy Pioneer day, fellow Utahns.
She heard the thunder just before the first raindrop brushed her bare shoulder. Cloudless hazy skies and three days of triple digit temperatures, echoes and distant memories now as the sky filled up, turned gray, and the northern wind pressed her skirt tightly to her thighs. Everything shifted. A paper sack caught on the corner of a park bench whipped and screamed. Heavy wet scents washed over her, like the ocean, like the time she went to the water alone and stared into the endlessness.
“There is always another side.”
The second drop hit her eyelash, making her blink. Regardless of what he said about what was real, what she could never understand, she could feel this water on her face, smell it in the air, see it falling in front of her, perceive it. That was enough.