about sunday.

easter day was quiet in kingston springs. we watched out the living room windows as pastel-clad ladies strolled into the methodist church across the street. i've been sensing that true springtime is near because cardinals and bluejays fill our lawn. we're still running the heater off and on though.

we had a leisurely morning around the house, a day of rest more or less. i made an early easter dinner of ham & asparagus quiche, fresh fruit, roasted new potatoes, and avocado-tomato salad. we followed it with foil-wrapped chocolate eggs which eli enjoyed immensely.

after a brief afternoon nap, we headed to our evening church service. it was good to be among friends and to dwell on the Resurrection as we received communion. the sermon was particularly long, but rich in insight. eli had fun in the nursery, dressed in a stylish spring outfit from jeremy's mom & dad.


today we are rolling along with more house settling. this is a lengthy process i am finding, and patience is a requirement. this weekend i made a small creative contribution--some artwork for our bedroom.


our walls are mostly empty still, and i'm eager to fill them but trying to take it slow. jeremy has been installing trim around the doors, and doing a great job of it. i'm impressed by his craftsmanship, especially since this is all new to him.

i still need to compile a collection of before and after photos to show, but for now i'll just share a few details from around the house...

the first rest.

we are lacking many doors, but we are home.

i am upstairs on the bed. to one side of me is a small window and the rain is pouring down. i like having an upstairs bedroom. when i roll over in the morning, there is no curtain, so i can see out to the neighbor's crooked brown barn. if i wake up looking straight ahead instead, there's a windowed door at the end of our bedroom where i can watch the sunrise almost every day. lately it has been so pink and orange and pretty.

downstairs, an Irish man is laughing. i am up here taking a rest that i've been wanting to take for awhile now. jeremy is in the living room below with his friend Miles McKee, a fellow Kingston Springer. they tried to go out for a beer but found the two local places closed (and also spotted Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban driving down our little Main Street) so they picked up some brew at the store and brought it here instead.

i cannot possibly explain how much i am enjoying this rest, listening to the muffled sounds of conversation in our house. it's a reminder that the hammers have stopped hammering for tonight. and instead of just working, working, working, we are living. we are being. we are without doors on our bedrooms, but what we do have are our own comfortable beds, a real kitchen, and a feeling that the end is in sight at long last. we feel richly blessed.

this house, i can honestly say, is a place i love to call home. i love that the windows open and fresh air drifts through. i love that trains rush by several times a day, whistles blowing as they chug through our sleepy town. i love that the trim is white and lots of light floods in onto the wood floors. i love that yellow daffodils are blooming outside. i love our new refrigerator.

my mom just came for a visit. jeremy was in san jose for work, so it was good timing for her to come and stay and keep eli and me company. she bought us sweet housewarming gifts (a picture for the dining room, a pretty little tablecloth) eli loved having a playmate while i unpacked boxes. i had thought i would take time to rest while my mom was here. maybe sleep in a little and let her have mornings with the baby, but we ended up working busily the entire four days. we moved a piano. she sewed curtains and cleaned our windows while i filled bookshelves. we entertained eli; he entertained us and chattered away in his own enthusiastic language that sounds like a cross between chinese and ewok.

jeremy returned with a suitcase full of Peets coffee and was happy to see all we'd accomplished. we've both been desperate to feel settled. i am determined that we will slow down now...we will tackle our list at a reasonable pace: hang doors, paint trim, install backsplash, more curtains and rugs. it takes awhile to make a home, but we are on our way. and in between there is time for rain, for rest, for good bottled beer in a living room of our own.

melting down.

i still haven't given up hope that on monday i'll be drinking my coffee in the new house...but at the moment i am flung on another guest bed feeling sorry for myself. i do realize that this is ridiculous. it's a very comfy bed, afterall; there's a rush of heat blowing from the vent, and our baby has a room to nap in. i hear myself reminding me that there are homeless people. people without a roof over their heads or food in their stomachs. families crammed together with make-shift tents under the freeway in new orleans. i am spoiled in comparison. but i also hear myself saying (sometimes more loudly), "I just want to go home."

it has been much harder being displaced than we anticipated. this month and a half has felt like a hundred days. i think all three of us have been in tears more than we feel comfortable admitting. eli has weathered this the best of us, actually. he's seemed to enjoy the changes of scenery...made a game of all the new rooms to explore and hosts to entertain.

we've just changed B's, having moved from the Brown's to the Bragg's. this move will be brief, however. we simply (i say simply) need to paint a few bedrooms this weekend and let the fumes die down so we can begin inhabiting.

i know we will be so thankful for this house once we are actually occupying it. i know the cat will do a happy dance once she's finally let out of the bathroom (she relocated also.) i know that at some point we will look back on this time and think of it as a lesson in perseverance, a time of growth, an adventure.

for now, we're standing wearily in paint-spattered clothes. i keep praying for my husband who is four steps past exhausted, wishing i could be of greater help. my job is to look after eli. most often this is a true joy, except for those days when we have to spend two hours in a paint store while Billy in his coveralls attempts to tweak a colormatch for the eighty-third time (how we ended up with field-mouse gray.)

that was definitely an "I just want to go home" kind of afternoon.

once we are home, i will share photos of the place. i will even invite you over for tea and tell you how it was all worth the struggle. some things in life aren't but this, i believe, will be one that is. and now that i have given myself this pep-talk, i should probably go dig out my toothbrush and get on with the day.