calling this home

I was determined to leave this place!

In fact, I was so determined, I drove around all of my favorite neighborhoods in Portland pretending I could live in one. I reviewed rentals, apartments, and houses, very discouraged but convinced that the right one was out there. I was battling demons left and right, between a too small house with a passel of teens, real or imagined walls about me in community, and an inability to provide the simplest of things to my husband - a car which would allow him to drive to and from work...

However, in the course of human events, some things are outside our control. Spaces and places grow upon us, like moss, and we can't shake them. Friendships fasten to our marrow and the very thought of losing them sends us out in a daze.

I'm a city girl. With a city heart. And yet, this small, not even quaint town has stolen my breath.

There are big city lights in my dreams and travels, but here I have dark back country roads and quiet farms to greet me. I have river and wood, dogs and friends, all to greet me day by day.

Lets not forget the fog. My companion in the winter, the clackamas river fog...

A number of years ago I had a debate regarding acceptance versus resignation. It is so easy to resign. So much more difficult to accept.

I'm afraid I will have to be content with the small catechism for my liturgy. I have to continue to kick the doors and climb the walls as long as I must to press on as the woman I was created to be. I'm afraid visiting dear friends on a good Sunday will have to provide me with the oxygen my lungs need when the limits are hit.

I've fallen in love with a barn. Its the silliest thing, a house in the shape of a barn on a lot the size of a shoe, and I'm in love. I'm in love with the idea of a neighborhood to greet each day, a river to wander with the dogs, and a home of my very own to share with all who enter in...

You are welcome, one and all. For a moment, an evening, or a limitless adventure.