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Frankenstein was a fairy tale, really, just without the fairies. But that was the word that kept going through my mind as MKL and I ventured out with our realtor for the first time to look for our house together.

We’ve been married over a year and still have not been able to consolidate our two houses into one slice of domestic bliss. I understand the whys and the psychology of it. We both fought hard to rebuild our lives after they fell apart, and buying a house was a huge milestone for each of us, so we are each attached to our respective house. We’re don’t really like each other’s houses or neighborhoods. Neither of us feels like there is room for the other in one or another’s house. I’m told by psychologist friends that this is all not uncommon for “older” people when they marry – that they lives are already more settled and so it is harder to uproot to live together.

But we want to. So we’ve created multiple scenarios (so practical!) that we are working through about what combination of renting or selling our houses will work best. And as part of that, we have begun looking for OUR house. It would be nice to start fresh, with no ghosts (literal or figurative) in a place that we can make our home. We are ready to be away from the Los Angeles-like traffic of the metro area, and the bright lights of the big city.

Our search has started in the foothills, close enough that we can commute in as needed, but on-the-grid enough that we can work from home when possible. We looked at four houses. We loved the location of the first one, overlooking a sweeping valley, with nothing but the sound of the wind in the pines and a random rooster. But not the house, and not the road to the house.

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MKL was in love with the garage of the second house. It was two stories tall, could house at least four cars comfortably, and had water. But the house was full of small rooms and angles, and would never accommodate our vintage pool table, or our aircraft carrier-sized bed.

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The third house was a huge no. You could not enter the house and have the oven door open at the same time. Not that I do that often, but I’d like the option.

And the fourth house was like a fairytale cottage. Open and bright, sunny yellow walls, 1910 latches, marble countertops in a brand new kitchen, rooms full of windows. But no garage. And not priced so that we could afford to build one. I refer to it now as the Enchanted Cottage, so when we talk about it MKL knows which house I’m referring too. It even had some mule deer grazing in the side yard. Sigh. I am still enamored.

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So our ideal place is a Frankenstein creation of one view, one garage, and one Enchanted Cottage.  I’m just going to keep believing until I make it real.

Quote of the day: “For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.” — Stephanie Perkins

Daily gratitudes:
A beautiful day
MKL fixing things when they go wrong
My Skype last night with one of my girls
My catering family
Housecleaning

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Or it will be soon. Looking forward to going home.

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Topsail Beach, North Carolina.

Quote of the day: “I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty.” — James Kavanaugh

Daily gratitudes:
Dragonflies
Katie Ledecky
Friendly chalkboards by front doors
Hot air balloons this morning
Perfectly dried roses

For those of you who haven’t met him, this is Mr. Man. He is my constant companion in what we call the “North House” aka, the Bungalow, and keeps me feeling well-loved and snuggled when MKL is in the “South House”. Some people say he has a big nose, but I think it’s beautiful. As a Maine Coon, which people say is “the dog of cats”, he is a vocal fellow. If he loves you, he will give you headbutts – after smelling your forehead to be sure no imposter is disguising herself as his Mom. Mr. Man, also known as Mr. Boo, has only had one other owner besides me in his whole life. I adopted him when he was 13 as a birthday present to myself three years ago. Yes, he’s 16 now, and has had a few problems with pancreatitis, from which he almost died two years ago. That experience – my helping him get better – was a turning point in our relationship. He finally came to trust me, eight months after I’d adopted him. Now, I don’t think we can imagine our lives without each other, though having had cats before (my first one lived to 20), I know that one day, I will have to do so.  But I hope that’s a long time off.

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Lafayette, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.” — Terry Pratchett

Daily gratitudes:
A successful chainsaw massacre with no loss of limb
An old favorite movie
MKL
Strong arms
True love

 

In case you haven’t heard, it snowed in Colorado today, a snow I haven’t seen the likes of since 2003, when I got stuck thigh deep in my own backyard (funny, yet awkward, and there was that moment I thought no one would find my body for weeks.)

My little town received 20 inches at my last measure, and with blizzarding winds, drift up to four feet on the back fence. We all knew it was coming, but none of us really expected its ferocity. So after talking to MKL for this morning’s wake up call, I was dozing, when I heard a loud noise. It sounded like Mr. Man had jumped and knocked a pile of paperwork onto the floor. I went to check that everything was okay, as a good pet owner does. And I realized the problem was not inside — it was outside.

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Yes, this was the scene in my front yard. at 6:45 this morning. This patch of yard used to contain a lovely little apple tree and a lilac bush. And now it contains the remnants of this:

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Half of a fifty foot Chinese Elm. I knew it needed to come down. It had died a year or so ago. But I wasn’t expecting this. Can you see where it split off from the main trunk?

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The miracle was where it fell. It missed by bedroom roof and my porch by inches, literally, and is only slightly on top of my fence. The shot above is the view from my little porch. My porch sticks out about four feet from the house, and my bedroom is sort of indented on the west side of the house. A slightly stronger gust of wind would have put it through the roof onto my sleeping self. I would have heard much more than the curious whooshing sound I heard when it fell as is it did. I doubt I’d be typing this now, in fact.

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The current view from my bedroom window.

I now have the unfortunate task of shoveling. First to the back gate, because it opens inward. Then a walk around the  block to shovel the sidewalk, because the front gate opens outward. And then a shovel run to the front door, maneuvering around the fallen tree which is blocking the path to the house. MKL and I will have to find chainsaws to get it out of the yard and assess the damage. The apple tree is nothing but broken spears, looking like jousting lances standing straight in the air. I will miss that tree. I’m glad, though, that I’m here to miss it. The roof is creaking, and clumps of snow (and possibly more trees and branches are falling with muffled thumps in that eerie, peaceful silence that only comes with snow. But I am here, and I thank my guardian angels for guiding the trajectory of the fallen tree.

A long, long time ago, a boy named Jeff stood on a balcony of an old plantation with me in Durham one July day. It was 99 degrees and 100 percent humidity. He said, “One day when you are watching the snow piling up around your house in Colorado, I want you to remember standing here on the balcony at Monkey Top, on a summer day so hot you can barely breathe.” Today, I remember.

Quote of the day: “You’re lucky, spontaneous, and your guardian angel is overworked and way underpaid.” — Mary Calmes

Daily gratitudes:
Miracles, great and small
Keeping my power all day
Guadeloupe
That my loved ones are all safe
Yesterday’s 73 degrees

And by the way, while I don’t think it changes anything for my lovely readers, my web address has changed to http://www.seasweetie.com. I’m my own blog URL now! So please check your Reader, so we can keep up with each other.

 

The New Year is now a distant memory for most of us. I know that MKL and I played pool, drank martinis, ate something yummy, watched tropical visions on Hawaii 5-0 on Netflix, and fell asleep before midnight. But many of you in the blogosphere may have noticed the “One Word Challenge.” I was late to that party, but the idea is that you pick one word to which you dedicate your actions and goals for the year. It’s simpler than your standard New Year’s resolutions, which are generally abandoned by the time you get the Christmas Tree off to the recycle center.

I’m not generally a big fan of this sort of thing (or of large parties), but this struck some chord within me. MKL and I do have a goal of combining households and actually living like a married couple in 2016, which led me to think that my word was “home.” But that is a very, very complex word for me (although MKL has made it simpler, as I feel as if my home is where he is). So I don’t think “home” is quite my word. I think my word is for 2016 is “bravery.”

BRAVERY.

The things that feed my soul that I fear pursuing because of rejection or failure need to be brought out to the show windows this year, reactions be damned. Maybe not quite like bravery in terms of Braveheart where Mel Gibson gets his intestines pulled out on a roller, but bravery in terms of going after what I want (no one else can do it for me) and taking risks around changes in my life, seeing new places, challenging myself. I haven’t done anything particularly brave in five years, when I was forced to reshape my roadkill of a life. So it’s time. Wish me luck. No, wish me courage.

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Eastern Colorado.

Quote of the day: “Scared is what you’re feeling. Brave is what you’re doing.” — Emma Donoghue

Daily gratitudes:
My MRI technician
Shamanic journeys
Meeting deadlines
Melting snow
Love

 

 

Always watching over us. Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.

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Duke University, Durham, North Carolina.

Quote of the day: “Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”  — Marcel Proust

Daily gratitudes:
That my house is under the Canadian Geese flight path
Owls hooting in the darkness
Cozy Mr. Man
Having Kelsea home for a few days
Embarrassing moments that make for good stories

 

 

We have been back from our beach wedding two months now, and again, I am feeling the restless urge in my spirit. MKL is my home now and that is soothing, but one’s gypsy soul, if one has one, never fades, never stills completely. It’s a lovely feeling to want to plan my travels with MKL, instead of running from something. I can escape through novels, television, pictures, but none of it takes the place of a packed bag and wheels or wings. Soon come (with a considerable amount of research and diligent savings).

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Littleton, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” — Robert Louis Stevenson

Daily gratitudes:
A beautiful day
A long walk
Dry roads + ABS brakes = not hitting a deer last night
A photography mission

And a shout out to my friend Mick, who has been kind enough to promote my blog a bit recently…please go check out his wonderful writing at https://tellmeastorymick.wordpress.com/

All pink and blue, unlike our swirling yet unfulfilled storm clouds here in Lafayette this afternoon. And speaking of babies – or those who are no longer babies – my darling daughter goes off to college orientation tomorrow. Then she comes back, which is good, but then she will go away again. I guess that is the way of it. As today’s quote says, we all leave a bit of ourselves behind when we leave a place. I have left much of myself at Topsail. My darling daughter will leave much of herself here. But we both have so much more to see and do and give, and an endless amount of ourselves to leave behind in the places we will love.

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Topsail Beach, North Carolina.

Quote of the day: “We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.” — Pascal Mercier

Daily gratitudes:
Making it through a tough day
MKL
Sharing Kelsea’s excitement about college housing
Our two new wooden parrots
Voyager

Or not! I think “not” if the icicles are reaching from the gutter to the ground. Once, the winter after we moved into the Bungalow, Kelsea took one of her Spanish swords to the icicles, much to her satisfaction. It did seem like a good idea, but I then discovered that they must have served a purpose, as I had a leak in the bedroom window frame for weeks afterwards. Therefore, these icicles will be staying put until they decide that spring is here.

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Lafayette, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “A blade of grass is the journeywork of the stars.” — Walt Whitman (I would give anything to see a blade of grass. This has been a hard, bleak winter.)

Daily gratitudes:
Cuddling with MKL
Watching cat videos to keep our stress levels down
The poignant can of Hormel chili abandoned in a snowdrift
The nearly circular sundog in the sky yesterday morning
A cat that loves me

This is where I am right now. Home. And loving every second of it.
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Topsail Beach, North Carolina.

Quote of the day: “A kiss on the beach when there is a full moon is the closest thing to heaven.”  — H. Jackson Browne, Jr.

Daily gratitudes:
The beach
My egg salad
Traditions
Pool tables
Having MKL and Kelsea in the house

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