34 moves in the Making

After many years of dreaming and talking Chuck and I have finally decided to build our dream house on the farm. In order to understand the significance of this move it would probably be best if you understood a bit about me. Between my father being a pastor and owning a consulting company, our family was constantly on the move. On average, I've moved every two years; never having lived in a house (or place) more than four years until I moved back to Wynne, Ar and met my husband.

Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that before I could legally take a drink I had travelled to every continental state plus traversed into Mexico and Canada; but a sense of longing courses through me whenever Chuck and pass by places that hold childhood memories I long to give Hila a sense of history, one place that she will always be able to refer to as home.

So with all of that Chuck are putting actions to our dreams. We have put a lot of thought and research into our decision.  Because of cost efficiency and minimal upkeep we have decided to build a metal house, and after spending last week at my uncle and aunt's house climbing up and down their steps toting a 30lb toddler it will be one story.  I have a goal to repurpose as many things from Chuck's childhood home as possible, even if the items are used in non-traditional ways.

Last weekend Chuck, his sister Lisa, and I tore down the old trailer. Next we will sort through the old house, then tear it down and begin preparing for laying concrete for our new home. And, to keep things interesting...we've set a goal to have our house completed by Christmas! Nothing like a short time-frame to keep life spicy!

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Absolutely Me

Few people know me better than my best friend.  It became evident in a small gift that she gave me earlier this week.  It was a small, simple hat but it represents so much of who I am. 

Growing up I hated the color pink, it represented weakness and "girls-girlness" pretty much everything I was opposed to.  Until my mother came down with breast cancer and bravely fought and won her battle. Then pink became a color of strength and dignity and hope.

The camo makes me smile, reminding me of the first time my husband took me to the woods or his romantic proposal several months later under a canopy of whistling limbs. It represents good times with friends and family alike, and attests to the passion that hunting has become.

Argyle shows my quirky side. I was slightly obsessed even before it became a trend, and will continue to be even after it no longer graces the racks of all the popular boutiques. Even I don't understand the tie it has on me, but it is what it is.

It seems fitting, that on the anniversary week of Carla and I being best friends for six years, she gives me such a wonderful gift showing how completely she understands me.