Twenty one days have passed since we first carried boxes filled to the brim with the contents of our ordinary life into this new dwelling place.
The things which at first daunted me, like the vast expanse of open plan area that would require on any given day to be swept or vacuumed or mopped, now appear more molehill than mountain. Adjustment is coming along nicely and there's a relaxed rhythm we've begun to flow with.
Every second day I bake a fresh loaf of bread...
...and I can even watch my favourite baking shows as I prepare meals.
With only one car between us at the moment I don't go out during the week as Mr E needs it to travel to work, so many relaxed hours are spent in this large kitchen. To be blessed with so much space and light and peace in a kitchen is a joy beyond what I'd hoped. God is gracious indeed.
Shepherd's Pie made from leftover roast lamb, mashed potatoes and a host of other veggies.
But change of any kind requires a period of adjustment to tweak and undo and discover.
Moving house is no different.
Each day something else is moved or removed, and notes are written on paper with an ever increasing list of things for me to make or Mr E to fix. It's a lovely thing this heartfelt desire to create a comfortable and welcoming home, a sanctuary for the weary and a place of delight for the bright explorer.
Sophie has always been an outdoor cat, coming inside as evening fell but usually under protest.
She was a gift from Mr E in early 2011 but soon expressed she had a far greater devotion to him then me, with all her affection lavished on him and rarely any to me. Since then I suppose Sophie and I have tolerated each other because of our mutual love for the man of the house, but you know, she too has changed with this move.
Sophie is now an indoor cat and with each passing day she is choosing to spend more and more time by my side. At first it was almost begrudgingly, but here we are, twenty one days into a different rhythm of living, and who is she snuggling up to at night? Me.
I was quite ill late Wednesday afternoon and all through that night with a crippling migraine and our over-sized previously aloof feline lay across the bottom of my feet the entire time, as though understanding I wasn't well and needing to comfort me.
And what did Mr E say? "Good girl Sophie. You look after mum."
Beautiful. Blessed.
Once hubby leaves for work each day I brew a cuppa and go sit out on the enclosed verandah in the early morning breeze with my Bible, surrounded by our potted plants and many palm trees which line the yard.
Each day after housework and Elefantz business has been attended to I venture into the sewing room to work for a little while on projects for the house, things like long narrow runners to cover the top of our bookcases.
Last weekend I dug through my box of old stitcheries and pulled out this "LOVE" block which was originally meant for my "At The Heart Of It All" quilt design, but I later rejected it and made a slightly different love block instead.
Funny how years later you can look at something you've made in the past but didn't really like at the time and instantly feel a warm glow of inspiration and creativity fill your thoughts.
Fortunately I'd kept some of the fabric scraps from that quilt and combined with a couple of new pieces my old Love block became the star of this simple disappearing 9-patch runner by Sunday evening.
Running stitch with Perle #12 thread added a touch more interest.
Homely, comforting, so basic, so simple...beautiful.
The next runner is now underway with one block made and four more to go. I doubt this will come together in a weekend, but that's fine...I'm enjoying the slower process of making, of being, of living.
This is a Jen Kingwell design from the Moda book "All in a Row Again".
These days I'm rather content pottering around and bringing life into each corner of this home, and into each corner of my heart.
Life was never meant to be rushed through or thrown together on a whim, yet I did live that way for a long time, not fully appreciative of what I had and the gift each morning had to offer.
What matters in the rhythm of life is the day before you, the people God has placed in your arms or in your path, and being grateful for it all.
The hardest times made me stronger, the sorrowful times built my faith and taught me compassion, the joyful times encouraged my capacity for love to overflow.
Nothing in life is wasted if we learn from it, grow with it, and pass on those precious lessons to the next generation.
The other day I wrote that I'm sensing a change in my life, and slowly that understanding is becoming clearer.
Think it will be rather marvelous, rather gentle and domestic and rhythmic and life giving - or perhaps I should say "life living".
God bless you dear one, you are immeasurably precious and not one good thing you have done has gone unseen by our Father in heaven, even if you feel invisible or unappreciated in your every day life. You are never invisible to He who loves you most.
hugs
