after a year

Moving to Wilmington was a long awaited goal that was achieved, and now I have lived here a year. Time marches on, as they say. I still occasionally marvel how it all worked out so well, especially toward the end. I am still happy to be here and into this phase of my life.

I am sitting at my grandmother's old sofa table that I use for a desk. It is one that she and my grandfather bought in the 1920s when they were newly married and setting up a home for themselves and their daughters. I remember the table from her living room of later years, and how it held her small Christmas tree with its colorful lights and a few precious old ornaments, and I was the child. I remember my grandmother when she was "giving up housekeeping" and the table went to live with my mother. Now it is mine. Sometimes I feel as if it should be locked up as a treasure, but I have locked up too many treasures, and they have become useless.

Outside a storm is passing over, and I am listening to the sounds of thunder and rain. I love the crazy weather here that seems like such a force of life, especially the stunning skies and their ever changing beauty. As with all summers, to me the easiest season, this one has passed too quickly. I must not take for granted the beach being only ten miles away and remember to go as much as I can in the early fall, the best time.

I haven't done anything new to my house since about March. After moving in, I added to and moved stuff around until I reached a place of comfort with how it was. But now I want to go at it again and paint walls and make other changes in one room. Matter of fact, I am itching to get it done.

It is good to be in Wilmington.