My Social Media-less Life

I have not updated my blog in a while. I was trying to finish my book. Since I decided to move houses for the first time in almost 12 years, I definitely did not get the book done and am now procrastinating by writing this blog.

Go figure…

There was nothing wrong with living with my former roommate, Lydia. It’s just that my brother bought a rather large house for the whole family to move into and was willing to charge me less than half of the pittance called rent I was paying Lydia, by his own choice.

So now I live in the same house as my nephews and niece and my mom and her husband and it has been an experience. Not bad… but it’s not something I’m going to get used to overnight. I still have to remind myself not to turn certain ways to get home when I’m driving by myself to and from places.

It wasn’t until I said it to my mom when she asked if I felt like my new house is home now that I’ve lived here for a couple weeks and I had to honestly say… “no.”

I grew up in a military household. The longest I lived in one house before the last one was 6 years. To be in the same house in the same neighborhood with most of the same neighbors for almost 12 would have been a WILD idea to my 24-year-old self.

And yet, I grew to love every moment of my time in that house.

When the idea was presented to me to move in with my family, I immediately knew the answer was “yes.” There was not even a question in my mind. This was one of those moments that I didn’t even need to consult the Lord because the preset was already there.

As soon as I realized what that meant for me: how the walks around the neighborhood would be different, how the movement through the house would be new, and how I would suddenly be living in a house full of dogs again…

I got sad.

Even though it was heckin hot and rainy in July, I found time to go for a few more walks in my old neighborhood that I had come to know over the last 6 years (I didn’t start walking regularly until COVID). I enjoyed the familiarity of the old house in a different way. I appreciated not having dog hair all over my clothes every moment of the day.

And then I started the moving process.

I thanked the house (not verbally, but in action) for what it gave me and the period of life it represented, and then I moved on.

Thinking about not living in that house has only caused me to get close to tears and not fully shed them. It’s not like when my bestest friend moved away or when my dad died. It’s not like I can never go back to the house. I’m still friends with Lydia and we are already planning ways to hang out inside and outside of the house.

I also have had a dog sleeping in my bed every night since I’ve been in the house. See first picture. Apparently I will never not have the brown dog with me so long as I let him have a whole side of the bed now. Although… he technically now has the whole bed and just allows me to sleep somewhere on it… provided I’m not in his way, of course.

My mom’s two golden retrievers have now started sleeping in my room and I have to keep the door closed so the cats don’t come in here and eat my long-lived Christmas cactus. They don’t seem to mind though. As long as I let them out when it’s time to wake up at 6:05am (when my alarm goes off for Bible study), they will gladly continue sleeping in my room with me.

My mom and I suspect the novelty might wear off for the goldens, but it definitely won’t for the brown boy… we’ll see though. Maybe they’ll start switching off some nights. 😛

In conclusion, as much as my life looks different now and more different than I ever expected it to be so quickly, I am very thankful for what it is and what it’s becoming. Every new thing in my life teaches me a new thing about God and I love that that most.