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Why, hello there little peaches that I picked from my backyard. It’s very nice to meet you and your little friends.

From the HOUSE peachtree

When told of your arrival, most reactions from my country bumpkin’ friends included a sweet serenades of this:

I personally was thinking with much excitement and joy this:

And about all of the wonderful things I could make with you. Especially this from the Pioneer Woman. This from Smitten Kitchen. And this from Joy the Baker.

Happy 4th of July to my sweet little guests, you are going to be a major star at the housewarming party this weekend.

And from 1991, and no other reason that I heart this song, sweet America:

Day after the move…

When did I become old enough to rent a house. A whole house. One with 3 bedrooms. Two bathrooms. And a roommate. Who is also a grown-up. I would have liked to sleep in said new house last night. I was prevented from doing so. By more bugs than I would like to ever see again. I don’t know what is wrong with screens. I like screens. In fact. I heart screens. They keep bugs outside. Where they belong. And then I could have slept in my bed. Bed is where when you go to catch some shut-eye. I have not been getting enough ZZZZs for the last week or so. Nervous energy robs you of sleep. And then you are a walking zombie. Not a cute look. Boxes. Another set of things that rob you of sleep. The “to do” list is larger than the done list. I think I have a list problem. I have a list for work, the new place, the old place, events, gifts and thank yous scattered about. Everywhere. Did I finish my latest list? Maybe I need a how to consolidate my lists list. That would be splendid. Apparently dirt is not on my list. I didn’t order all of this. Or the bugs. Certainly not the bugs. I am not grown up enough to deal with large unidentifiable flying, crawling, moving things. Absolutely not. No way. No how.

Three days after the move…

First night sleeping in new house. Was that sleeping? Not by “normal” peoples definition of the word. I would call it kindof sortof sleeping. Like closing your eyes and being completely aware of crawling critters and white noise and space and quiet. A lot of quiet. The neighbor folk say the firehouse alarm will be loud. They are either the slowest department without any emergency or I have tuned out the noise. Maybe it was all of the years in the city. Where everyone tunes out everyone.  And the sirens. And the people. And the traffic. There are less full boxes. And more piles of stuff. That needs a home. Ideally there is an end to the unpacking and organizing, but that light at the end of the tunnel, anyone seen it yet?

Seven days after move…

A whole week has passed. I actually live in the most colorful house in all the land. Literally. Not joking. A yellow dining room. A blue room. A red and orange kitchen. A multi-colored backyard. A teal hallway. And then there is the whitest upstairs ever. I guess they needed a break. I heart the color. Who knew a rental could bring such color. I certainly wasn’t expecting it. And my straight forward wear a suit to work everyday roommate certainly didn’t either. Funny how the most straight forward of people can surprise you. In many ways. But not in toilet paper and bathroom etiquette. Heart the color, heart the roommate, heart the blue room.

One week and two days after the move…

Sitting in the man cave watching tv and writing. The first moments of feeling like I live here. In the colorful house on the river. With the roommate. And less boxes. The planets have been misaligned lately. As if we all have been a lil off. And all it took was a cable connection. A clean light. Put away bras and underwear. And the belief that everyday will be a lil better. A lil safer. A lil brighter.

Hey, hey, hey, no matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away
I say hey, hey, hey no matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

Hey Hey Hey” by Michael Franti and Spearhead

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