At the same time, I'm feeling so rooted and at home here in my woods. It's still surreal, that I get to live here, that I get to raise my son among the Ponderosas in the shadow of the San Francisco peaks. How did we manage to pull this off?! It feels like a dream. It's too beautiful to be real.
Sunday driving back roads on a Saturday.
I wonder when the wonder will wear off. When will we start to curse what passes for traffic here, instead of laughing at the absurdity of the contrast to the gridlock of rush hour gridlock in Austin? When will I drive through town without my breath catching in my throat at the sight of the mountains? Will I stop hearing the pines sighing in the breeze? Will I stop stopping to close my eyes and feel that same breeze on my cheek?
I'm not feeling well today. I've spent the entire day lying in bed listening to the rain, alternating sleeping and feeling sorry for myself. I don't know if I'm coming down with an actual illness or if my body is just worn down from the exhaustion of suddenly working really long really hard days building things, doing my best to run a construction site 1200 miles away, raising a child who came back from a week and a half at Grandmas farm an absolute monster, and trying to run a household from the dirt. It's a lot to handle, and as usual I'm not taking very good care of myself. Hopefully a day of rest and chicken soup will be enough to recharge my batteries, because as it turns out, life doesn't just stop because I feel crappy.
Onward! And hopefully upward, to an upright position.
