My next assignment

Selling this house:
Who wouldn't love this house? We sure do!

Listing it?

No problem

I am a neat freak!

. . . Or at least I thought I was until today. How is it possible to spend most of every minute of every day cleaning something and yet today when the realtor came to take pictures I felt like I lived in an episode from "Hoarders"?

Seriously!?!!

It was like spending all night writing a masterpiece for your English lit class in college, you walk ready to snow your teacher with your incredible piece of art, confident that they will recruit you to publish something for their next journal, and instead you get your paper handed back to you with red ink all over it.

Granted... she was extremely gracious. She was ready to start snapping pics without me dashing from room to room grabbing clutter and throwing it in the nearest closet, but once I started, boy there was no stopping!

. . . and to my credit, I did just get back from a 2 month trip three days ago. . . or is that not to my credit seeing as how really the house hasn't been lived in for two months.

Um, regardless, my work is cut out for me, and I thought I was gonna skate through this. Ughh.

Speaking of Winter . . .

Coastal Carolina doesn't get much of this, but then again miracles do happen. Over President's day weekend we got this. It's Kate's first encounter with the white stuff.

God's Home

Tonight as we were praying before bed I asked Peter where God's home was. Without skipping a beat he answered, "North Carolina." No wonder why he was so anxious to get back here; God lives in North Carolina. :)

Home

Home sweet home. There is nothing like traveling to give you a greater appreciation for your home. We have been gone for 7 weeks visiting family across the United States, and we had a great time! The only thing that was slightly troubling was the question Peter asked me just about every night as I tucked him into bed. He would turn to me wondering if we could go back to "Peter's house" sometimes with tears in his eyes. This question always came as a shock. What on earth would drive him to want to go home after the incredibly fun day we had just had? He had laughed himself silly, played himself speechless and had way more fun than anything we had done at home. Nonetheless, every night as we put his little pj's on, he would turn to me again and ask, "Mommy, when can we go home?" There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Peter enjoyed himself to the fullest rough housing with uncles, playing with cousins, parading with grandparents, and loving on his aunts. He had a blast, but somehow he kept his home in the back of his mind as the place where he truly belonged. At first this question came as an offense to me, how could he possibly ask that when he was having so much fun, but after seven weeks of it, it came more as a lesson to me. They say "home is where your heart is." There's no doubt where Pete's is, but where is mine? I say my home is in Heaven and I'm just passing through, but where's my heart?

Roots

This little town I live in is growing on me. There was a time when I complained about the lack of culture and the smell of pig farms (okay maybe last week), but I'm starting to love this place! It all started when I started planning my gardens. The more I plant the more I notice the little things around me that I love so much. I love those alfalfa fields I pass on my way to the grocery store . . . I love my friends here. Their husbands have the same long hours (or worse) than mine does, giving us plenty of time for playdates, coffee, projects, planting and shared experiences. . . and I love the Mennonite store out in the country with the creaky screen door that slams shut behind you where I can buy my milk in glass jars . . .

I always dreamed of living on a farm. The idea of sharing all three meals with Dan, sitting on the front porch together, watching the sun go down on the fields we planted, working the land and enjoying the fruit of our labor, but Dan reminded me the other day that a farmer's life is one of the hardest: with early morning wake ups and late nights changing water. It's stressful when your life depends on the crops and weather. But here I have the best of both worlds. I have a life out in the country, with a husband who gets a paycheck, most Saturdays off, and lots of leave (when they actually let him take it). They say to "bloom where you're planted." I'm blooming so fast that these roots are getting deep!