“And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We’re captive on a carousel of time. We can’t return, we can only look behind from where we came…” -Joni Mitchell, The Circle Game

It’s been four months since my update from the road. Rereading it now, I’m laughing at my centered and serene report. It wasn’t much later that I was teetering just slightly off the rails. Today’s post comes to you from the table in our house where we’ve lived for almost two months now. I like my little home office but the view is better from this spot, where the snow is piling up in the woods beyond the thinly iced over retention pond.

Let’s see, we left off in the U.P., enjoying the peacefulness of cabin life by Lake Superior. Late nights playing euchre with good friends after dinner and long days walking on the beach, reading, snacking and napping without a care in the world. At this point, we were a mere few weeks out from our anticipated move in date and we were still pretty much in vacation mode. The return from paradise offered an extremely soft landing at the lovely home of generous friends.

Exactly when we began to see that our time between homes was going to be longer than anticipated, I can’t say. Thankfully, it’s all sort of a blur. It took me maybe a little longer than the average bear to realize that the builder would just say whatever words he thought might cut him loose in the moment and they didn’t connect in any meaningful way to reality. Keep in mind, it’s not just Jim and I but also our friends, who are packing up their home in Colorado and making plans based on whatever word salad was being dished up day to day. And I was their real estate agent. The details are numerous and dreary. Just so you know, this all has a happy ending/new beginning.

As is often the case, life added a few serious twists and turns that were completely unrelated to any of the moving issues. Two treasured friends became seriously ill. One had an unimaginable surgery, requiring hospitalization of several weeks and a long recovery period and the other had a grim prognosis handed down late in the spring. The former, is fully recovered and left Madison (where he had the surgery) last week to return home to San Francisco. The latter died a few weeks ago.

Having been trusted to walk through these months with each of these friends was an honor of the highest order. There wasn’t another time to attend to them. There was just the time at hand. Looking back now, I can see how they anchored me during a time when I was feeling completely unmoored. These friends brought me into the moment every day and everything else just worked itself out. Maybe not seamlessly, but still.

So, a bunch of things happened. We moved around here and there. Ran back and forth to Belleville to see the period of non-progress. At one point, we were staying in a hotel in Verona. Let me recommend to you and your guests, Fairfield by Marriott on Verona Ave. Reasonable rates, decent breakfast, nice rooms, great staff and secured underground parking (which is an important feature when you always have a ton of stuff in your car). I was still grieving the old neighborhood and neighbors and was one morning on my way to go for a walk by my old creek. I turned the other way at the last minute and drove to the community park in my new village. There’s a lovely berm between Lake Belle View and the Sugar River. There was still a lot of color and myriad birds, making a glorious cacophony. After a short walk there, I knew it would be ok. Not the same, but ok.

And it has been more than ok.

John and Anne got into their house first. We moved right into their guest room, where we stayed for about a week. Her brother was coming to visit and, while they would never have kicked us out, we really didn’t want to be in the middle of that visit. Our house was so close to being done and the heat had just been turned on. No certificate of occupancy yet. No closing date. No clear communication. Oh, all of our stuff was in the garage and basement because I’d already rescheduled the POD and movers once and I wasn’t going to do it again. The place was wide open so we could walk in and out all the time and see what was going on.

Anyway, I asked if we could throw a mattress on the floor and sleep here and the builder said yes. Sure, there are a lot of liability issues and there was no way we should have been here but we were tired and it was so close! You can just imagine how good it felt to sleep here.

In the morning, Jim went off to meet his regular breakfast crew and I lingered. O.k., I pushed it a little. Unpacked the coffee pot, brought over our food from across the way; oh, alright, yes, I got out the toaster, too. This is a reminder to clearly mark your boxes with the things you’ll want/need right away. So, there I was in my p.j.’s, drinking coffee and making avocado toast, when someone walks right in the door. Surprise! It’s the building inspector. It exceeded the limits of my creativity to convince him that we weren’t actually living here. Maybe the frying pan I was heating for an egg on my avocado toast was just a bit too much. I turned off the burner and put the eggs away. I did not ask him to remove or cover his boots. The certificate was issued that afternoon; we closed 2 days later. Was everything done? Absolutely not. Will they ever finish that punch list? Don’t make me spit my coffee out laughing. Luckily, Jim is handy and doesn’t mind caulking a little here and touching up paint a little there – actually, everywhere. Overall, the house is fine. One-story living is great. I was concerned about switching to an electric stove but it was easy. I might even like it better. The popcorn turned out fine.

Truthfully, I think I was in shock for a while. It’s no secret that I would have stayed with my loved ones on Emerald Street for the rest of my life if I could have. This transition has been difficult for me and I guess that’s why it took me so long to write this final entry. I didn’t want to fake it. Today I don’t have to. We’re happy here and having our dear pals just across the way has been really nice.

Today we got to use our driveway snow melt system. Just turn a dial and a boiler heats up the cement. It wasn’t ready yet for our first snow here so today was extra exciting. While we waited a couple hours to see it happening, the people down the street shoveled. Jim said, “Seems to work fine if you shovel that first 6 inches of snow first.” It does work fine, eventually, and we’ll know next time if that’s why the stove and bedroom clocks and lamps have gone out twice and the printer keeps restarting. With each little frustration, I remind myself that it’s because I live in a brand-new house with every convenience.

Village life is pretty sweet. We’ve enjoyed parades and high school football games and music festivals and a costume party at the bowling alley. John and Anne and I have been going to line dancing at the Sugar River Senior Center. It’s a blast. We’re getting involved with the local library, too, which is new and beautiful. Last Saturday night was a cookie walk and tree lighting in the gazebo in the square. As a friend pointed out a couple of days ago, it’s like living in a Hallmark movie.

Without going into detail, let me just tell you there was nothing about my life up until now that even remotely hinted at a Hallmark movie. There was a time not too long ago when the idea would have had me running away screaming. Now, like so much in my life, it seems like a gift I’d never have thought to ask for. Brings to mind the words of a friend who was making some life altering decisions, “Why not just relax into this unchangeable truth and know that I am loved?”.

What more could I possibly want or need?