Near midnight there is a white circle that lays on the wall above the mantel. Slowly, the minutes pass as it drops down, getting lost in the fire.  There are a million stars above my head, and without the city lights, they really do twinkle.

By morning, tiny finches have found the birdhouse I nailed to a tree.  I can see it perfectly from the table, that's why I chose it.  Sometimes they peek in, and sometimes they go right to the seeds on the ground, all strewn about by the squirrels.

Afternoons are lovely.  There is a camellia bush on each corner of the yard. They're not as big as the magnolias, but they're mighty and old too, and no matter where you look, it's blooming pink.
There are no signs of midwinter here, outside my windows it looks like spring. 



Today was a big day.  I've been waiting for it for what seems like forever.  This morning I awoke to an empty house and to silence.  Well, not really, the cat was scratching on the window at a bird perched on a branch just outside. After two long weeks of rain, the sun is finally out and I imagine the bird too just wanted some warm peace and quiet.  How he must have been annoyed at the interruption. Our guests have left, the kids are at the cabin, Chad was at work, and so it was...the first morning, the first morning of real life again.  The first morning waking up in the new house, all by myself with nothing to do.

Well, there are a million little things to do, ones that we put aside in order to make sure bigger ones were done so company could at least shower and sleep in a clean room.  I'd rather be decorating or gardening, but I keep telling myself that we're here now, everything will fall into place as it should, when it should.  I once knew someone who said, "there's no time to hurry."  The older I get, the more true that is to me.  And so, as much as I wanted to put on my gardening apron, I put the work one on instead.

Mornings here remind me a little of mornings at the cabin, minus the geese and the heron.  But I'm surrounded by trees and birds and squirrels.  I have back steps to sit on and acres of pecan trees that catch the sunlight so perfectly.  I put up birdhouses on the trees in the garden area and my dear father-in-law put a birdbath under the magnolia tree just outside the kitchen window.  I do believe the kitchen table is my favorite spot in the house. When it's just me and the trees and the sky and the birds...I'm happy.  And after nine months of homesickness, loneliness, ambitious restorations, sleep depraved nights, big dreams smashed by reality, and many tears, I am so happy to be happy!

And so like that, as long as it was and as quick as it was, it's time to figure out what to do next.  I'm inspired by the views from my window, and sometimes all it takes is a little new inspiration.