The Time Between

Indoors



Outdoors



It's still Eastertide--there are 50 days of it--so technically I haven't missed out doing an Easter blog.

The woeful lack of blogging resulted from some rather intense activity associated with my primary project. I perhaps have mentioned that the Chap and I intend to move away from our beloved Lodge and take up residence in the Capital City. There are logistical reasons--proximity to his office and the locations of our volunteer activities--and a desire to be nearer friends and services. For 19 happy years we've lived out our dream of rural living beside our little lake. And though we love this house and our 21 acres of woods and the wildlife and birds so often featured here, we've had an increasing sense that our days in this environment are numbered.

I began the serious house-hunting 11 months ago, searched throughout the summer and autumn and all this winter. Overall, I wandered through 22 houses (that's my best count.) My doubt about finding anything suitable increased with every showing. Last October we found a house that seemed just about right--not ideal, but a good location and the size limitations were fixable. It was de-listed at the start of the year, then popped up again around my birthday. So we looked again. Despairing of finding anything better, we even made an offer. Price negotiations stalled.

Disappointed but determined, I suggested to the Chap that we look at the in-town house whose online listing had caught our attention. A week ago today we saw it. We had a curious sense of recognition, despite the fact that it's bigger than we wanted, offers multi-level living instead of the single storey we had decided upon, it's in a part of town we hadn't even considered but turned out to be ideal--he could walk to his office on nice days. It is partly historic and partly contemporary. It has perennial beds and shrubs, a mostly fenced-in yard that can easily be fully fenced to contain the dogs. And there's a stand of trees directly across the road as an antidote to culture shock.

We could see ourselves there. Our realtor could see us there.

We thought and we talked and on Sunday after church we visited the house again. I had begun to think of it as the "sunshine house" because each time we saw it the sun was streaming through the windows and skylights. This time we measured and we looked in closets and cupboards and made a meticulous assessment. Within an hour of leaving the place we made a purchase offer. The following day a price was agreed. The closing date is determined and the requisite home inspection is scheduled.

As ice goes out completely on the little lake--any minute now--I will record the event in my nature diary for the last time. I will remain here long enough to mark the return of the phoebes and orioles and hummingbirds and goldfinches (the robins have arrived already), and I shall witness the flowering of bulbs and even my roses before our ties to this property are severed. I veer between exultation and sadness when I think about what lies ahead. It will be a long goodbye to Lodge living.

And that's all right. Now that I know where I'm going, I don't need to rush being gone.