Sunset Boulevard
I felt as though this place was bidding us adieu in the most picturesque way possible somehow. The sky, the weather. The moon and the pines. The stalks of the cattle corn. A slow, lingering, rosy kiss of farewell each evening. One evening in particular, the sky was streaked a pink haze. Breathtaking. It reminded me a little of the Aurora Borealis if you could see them during the day time. Fingers of columnar colour. Reaching out.
Aurora at dusk?
The last month I have slept an average of maybe two or three hours a night. As my son settled down to slumber, the packing would begin each evening. It is a surreal undertaking to pack one's life into little brown boxes. To leave a place that is deep in your heart. It's the second time I've had to bid goodbye to a love of mine this year. I don't recommend cramming two goodbyes like that into one year. Hard on the heart, actually.
But with all I had going on, I hardly had time to grieve the loss of this home. The leaving it. I think the grieving will come at some point. To be honest, I am writing this on my third evening in my new home and I have not begun grieving yet. I feel too fucking happy. HA! Admittedly, I had some teary moments my final day as I drove away. But this home I've moved into has welcomed us with a very warm embrace. Every piece of furniture I own somehow fits perfectly into each room as though the rooms were made for them, were simply awaiting them to fill that space just so.
Through the exhaustion of the past four months of selling my farmhouse, the exhaustion of the last home-focused year really, I am still able to feel euphoric as I sit in this, my new home. My new, old home. I love its every inch. Its wide staircase. Its hardwood floors. Its views are not of cornfields or sunsets, but I still have a golden maple to enjoy. The views from each window are actually quite beautiful.
I have absolutely no regrets, I realize, as I sit and type this. The first evening I sat in my home as my sonshine snuggled in his new room, I poured myself a wee glass to toast our offical arrival.
And, I thought to myself, this home is already such a happy home for us. It carries no sad memories. It offers only a future of joyful ones. I realize, as much as I adored my foot-deep windowsills, the sun shines much more brightly through windows not so deep. (Vitamin D is an important ingredient for Joy.)
With each box I unpack the last couple of days, I discover that every item has its place where it belongs. And now we have ours! It is perfect in so many ways and I wonder at myself that it took me so long to move towards this Joy, this choice of leaving my last home.
'Kay. I miss my Yeats' poetry. Will have to inscribe a brief verse on the wall of my new kitchen. Which poem? Hmmmmmm...
A Truly Canadian Thanksgiving:
Gourdon Lightfoot, Gourdie Howe and Glenn Gourd
Thanksgiving was last weekend and I was crazy enough to host my sister and her hubby and her two boys out at my farm for one last special occasion. I cooked my final turkey in the stove with some homemade, curried couscous stuffing. My family thought I was insane to even attempt this the week of our move. Much of our stuff was already in boxes. But I'd kept dishes and cutlery out and the timing worked out perfectly as a friend of mine from California suddenly ended up in the area with her main squeeze so it was a truly special day to properly bid the kitchen in which I've cooked 10 years' worth of meals a fond farewell. An additional pleasure to force myself to take a break from all the packing and chaos and just enjoy the company of my twin, her family and our dear friend and her mate.
And thanks was given. Is still given. I have so very much to feel thankful for and the help of many hands to feel grateful towards who reached out to aid me during this entire process. My son and I are so very blessed by the love of family and friends. And the love of this new home. I feel its love as I sit here and type this. We are no longer remote and adrift. We have found our proper place finally!
And so I raise a glass to all of you who visit these pages and have stuck around while I've been lost in Cyberia. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and I know any sad memories I had of my old farmhouse will diminish in time and be replaced by fond memories only.
Pre-Slumber Amber
A toast...
Goodnight and Joy Be With You All...
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Of all the money e'er I had,
I spent it in good company.
And all the harm I've ever done,
Alas! it was to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit
To mem'ry now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
Oh, all the comrades e'er I had,
They're sorry for my going away,
And all the sweethearts e'er I had,
They'd wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise and softly call,
Good night and joy be with you all.
If I had money enough to spend,
And leisure time to sit awhile,
There is a fair maid in this town,
That sorely has my heart beguiled.
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips,
I own she has my heart in thrall,
Then fill to me the parting glass,
Good night and joy be with you all.
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Music: The Parting Glass, Cover by The Wailin' Jennys
