This Wild Grace: H O M E. sweet home

(...and a tour too!)

It's taken a little while, to get used to this place, this…house. Been conditioned so long to plan, when I put things in their right place, for the packing and moving. House. This feels different…solid, settled, rooted, rested.

home.

Tiny bits of me mourn our nomad ways. There is freedom in the simple knowing that you can pack your bags and move across the country at the drop of a hat, if you wish. Wild. Adventure. Free.

But I can feel it now, the weight off the shoulders. I know where I will be next year. And the year after. And there is freedom in that. It's here too -- wild adventure bounding around these four walls. Gardens planted, swings from trees, every inch of park touched and known. And all the walls will keep the stories, and marks of memories.

I'm getting used seeing the Minneapolis skyline, busy and industrial, poking through the treetops on my way home from the grocery. I'm getting used to the quiet chatter in foreign languages of the residents here, my neighbors, as I browse through Target. And I've become more familiar with the plumbing of this old house than I'd like to remember. Deer replaced with buses. Trees with buildings. Lakes with freeways. And I'm getting used to this. Weird.

And this.

This magical world all our own when we close our door, our door. The space between these four walls all our own. It's so strange, and strange that it's strange, right? I dropped a metal mixing bowl at midnight -- maybe I was baking cookies…or making popcorn…or both -- and I winced. "The neighbors…" And it hit me, all at once, there are no neighbors! No one below us or on the other side of the wall to wake up or overhear their fighting. No one to disturb or disturb us. So I dropped the bowl again, just for the heck of it. Then I remembered that, yes, there are no neighbors, but there is a sleeping man who has to work in the morning. Oops.

There is a warmth in the space between these walls I haven't felt in a long time. Comfort. This is home. And maybe even stronger than my childhood home. This is ours, mine. The person who I love the most, he and I share this place and no one else. And soon…prayerfully soon, we will welcome others into our wonderful little world of love and sunshine.

I breathe deep the air of this place. Solid. Settled. Rooted. Rested. And burrow under the blankets deep. The joy tears come and I don't even try to keep them at bay. We have been blessed, so many gifts, this year. This season. I wish the whole world to know this feeling. Home. Sweet home. And know we are among the few -- owners. I don't take this for granted, not one moment. And I can't wait to open the doors to many -- young and old, family born with, family chosen, new friends and old.

My heart has been settled, rooted solid, and rested in the Father. What a wonderful good feeling when our home here on earth is rested too.

. . . . .

Welcome to our little nest!

Living Room view from front door.

Turning right, a view of the kitchen. Note the telephone shelf and vintage doorbell cover!

Our Wonderful, Amazing, Beautiful kitchen!
Painted the dark finished wood white and blue.
TIP: for no peeling, allow paint the full 4 weeks to cure. it's worth the wait.