We’ve moved into the country; we now live in a land of rednecks and Amish. The other night we saw a cop for the first time in months; the local pizza joint is the hub of the community; I have to drive 20 minutes to buy a cup of coffee or go to a thrift store. [I still manage to spend money on coffee and thrift store stuff we don’t strictly need.] My school this semester, as I think is common for summer semesters, isn’t very taxing, though my Astronomy class tends to overload my hamster brain on the regular. Our kitchen remodel continues apace. We painted a mountain mural on one wall, and I love it. Our neighbors are nice, and they have a pair of purple lions guarding their driveway [our neighbor, a former bodybuilder, stole those lions from his brother’s house after his brother died, and they’re purple because that’s the colors of the local high school, all details my husband learned without asking].
Our seventh anniversary is this coming Monday, and I’ve planned a weekend getaway at a secluded cabin for us. The logistics, never my strong suit, apparently didn’t include our dog, and I’m scrambling to find a boarding place with room for her. I’m excited to do a getaway, even if we’re not going far. It’s been a long, hard few years, and we’re both ready to have fun again.
Today the sun is shining, my 65-lb dog is laying on my legs, I have Astronomy and English homework to do, and the flowers I planted are growing. Today is good.