journeys

Almost 6 weeks ago, a major journey came to an end, and a new one started: we have moved from our first house, our home of 12 years, to our next house.

It's a journey we started in earnest at Thanksgiving and is the primary reason why I haven't blogged or finished a knitted object in months. Last night I finished Sprout's daycare blankie, begun nearly a year ago, and will post a pic soon.

Returning to the new normal has begun. There are still boxes to unpack, rooms to paint. Items get placed, then moved, then moved again. I could not imagine ever tiring of shopping for house furnishings, but after 4 different shower curtain purchases in an attempt to match the counter in the guest bath, I can't face another white sale, Pottery Barn catalog, or cardboard box to break down.

A problem with journaling (or blogging, if one is an infrequent blogger) is that I feel compelled to "catch up." It's a further deterrent. All I really wanted to write tonight is this: the view out my office window is tall trees, wind, and a broad swath of sky. It's a feast of restfulness after weeks and months of motion. The quiet is like food, nourishing in a life that seems lately filled with meetings, conversations, words, tasks. Also I'm discovering that motherhood really is a joyful servitude--there is never, ever, ever, nothing to be done, and I'm like every mother I ever wondered about why she couldn't just sit down for awhile: driven. So this moment and view is sweet.

Now I'm off to do the dishes, but if you're a mother: sit down, just for a moment. In solidarity for all your sisters.