Breaking the silence.

quilt assembly

I’m sensing a pattern here.

Last year my madness centered on getting married and all of the chaos surrounding my wedding day. My husband and I toiled through school and multiple jobs and weekend work. Time flew by, a theme around these parts.

Things tapered off in the new year. We were lucky to cut back some of our extra work hours and simplified life to match. I still had to give up most of my weekends, and missed many opportunities to spend time with family and friends, but we had each other so it was OK.

Instead of working shifts at the yarn and fabric shop where I was part-time, I switched over to teaching. What started with knitting and crochet on a private lesson basis quickly morphed into a monthly introductory sewing class and a bias towards quilting. Having completely lost my knitting and all-things-yarn-related mojo, it was a blessing: I could throw together projects quickly with the hum of the machine before me. And there I was, stitching up small projects and quilt tops with abandon.

But something stirred in me. There was a restlessness, a need for a big, all-consuming project into which I could pour all of my energy. Perhaps I was still coming down from the high of wedding planning. I’ll never forget, though, how our next wave of madness began: with a simple email positing a loaded question; do you think it’s crazy to think that we could buy a house?

S and I had rented apartments together for six years. We sat on a bit of money from our wedding, given by people who love us and had surely worked hard for it. We wanted to make that gift count, and so in May, a few months before our lease ran out, we looked for houses. We scouted neighborhoods based on school districts and a desire to be far from the noise of the city. All of our free nights and weekends were given over to driving to new-to-us towns with quaint New England names and making sure that houses with large acreage came with towns with good pizza shops.

We had a month of mayhem, and at the end of June after a short but intense search, we found our home.  It’s simple and bare-boned but it sits on more than an acre and is more than we ever dreamed we could give our future children as a place to learn and grow.

sky over home

Our summer has been full of cleaning and unpacking and painting and spending every spare cent on making the place ours. We have been handsomely rewarded with quiet, beautiful sunsets, and a few good yarn and fabric shops nearby.

fog over home

My sewing machine sits in front of a window overlooking this, our back yard. We’ve tamed it a bit, cut back the trees and grass to open up the space. There have been so many projects, each improving our life there little by little (and every bit counts, as my commute is now at least an hour each way). I thought it time to share all that we’ve been working on. And, once again, apologize for my long absence!


2 thoughts on “Breaking the silence.

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