It's Time

I've been quiet since July 22nd and, well, it's time.

It's been 6 months and 2ish weeks since I've written, so a cursory catch up is clearly necessary, as well as some form of an explanation.

Where have you been? you ask, if indeed you're still there. Friends, I've been everywhere.

I've been under my house in Florida, where we (and I use "we" very loosely here) finally trapped our friend the opposum while B was taking the Alabama bar, meaning we had to leave our little house guest unattended while we headed for Montgomery, trusting that he wouldn't thwart our fail-proof weight system and make himself at home in our home. No, we didn't leave the AC on when we left.

I've been in Montgomery, where B took the Alabama Bar while I worked from the hotel room and finalized our plans to head to Birmingham as soon as the Bar was over to close on our house the next day.

I've been in an attorney's office, signing legal docs to tie myself to B (again) and to our first home. Happily!

I've been driving a moving truck due-West on I-10 leaving Florida in my dust, but not my rear-view mirror because, did you know? Moving trucks (quite logically) don't have rear-view mirrors. Sure, if you had a rear-view mirror, you'd be looking directly into the front of the ginormous truck you're driving, but it's still odd feeling. When you're moving, you literally can't look back.

I've been calling my sister on my first grocery run in Alabama to tell her that being "at home", to me, means buying the large-size can of Crisco, because I can afford to invest in something I certainly don't want to move. Ever.

I've been unpacking, buying furniture, settling in, and, finally, hanging pictures (um, this week). We love our house. Our home.

I've been getting typhoid shots and taking malaria pills to enjoy an amazing vacation to Nicaragua and Costa Rica. We watched monkeys, crocs, and sunset after gorgeous sunset as we watched the curtain fall on our life pre-law firm and anticipating what the next act might bring when B started at his firm. The malaria pills, if you're interested, were optional, but the lady told me, "If you get malaria and then happen to get pregnant any time in the next year and get so much as a cold, go directly to the hospital because maternal mortality rises dramatically as a result of the virus." B could've cold-cocked the lady, as I'm already a nightmare when sick. Now I'll assume I'm dying, at least for exactly one year post-vacation, when I get a sniffle.

I've been wondering, is it cold-cocked or cold-clocked? My office of editors is firmly divided.

I've been spending some time with B at his family's lake house in upstate Georgia, and enjoying the calm before the (much anticipated!) storm.

I've been transitioning to work back in the office and to B at work with the firm, and loving that we're both pleased as punch with where we are these days.

I've been cheering on Alabama at football games, taking B's Dad to his first SEC game, savoring the National Championship, and, subsequently, mourning the transition of another college football season into (ick) NBA games.

I've been enjoying holidays. Our first Halloween that actually brought trick-or-treaters, even the older kids who came through twice. Another wonderful Thanksgiving with B's family, then a pre-Christmas gathering with all my siblings and their 9(!) children followed by Christmas with B's family and his grandparents. We rung in the New Year with B's best friend from childhood in quiet upstate Georgia with a low-key dinner, Champagne, and football.

I've been researching B's birthday present, a rescue golden, who became a reality two weeks ago when we brought Colby, 18-months, home to his forever home. His fuzzy therapy is the closest I've been to God in a while, especially when I find him napping on the dining room floor and can drag him onto my lap. Overnight I became that person who wonders why I can't bring a dog into a grocery store.

I've been applying to the Junior League (and waiting to hear), meeting with PEOs (another volunteer league for women's education), dining with our fabulous neighbors, hosting low-key dinner parties, and generally trying to get involved with our city, which I love. We're shopping churches and suddenly wondering why they don't have puppy parking.

I've been taking walks with B every morning before work (and sometimes before sunrise), which as been blissful as we've been able to talk about ourselves and our hopes, then watch that come true as our walks changed from "maybe a dog" to "Let's go, Colby! Let's GO!"

I've been researching puppy trainers.

I've been missing you, and this, and writing, and experiencing via this blog. There are things I couldn't write about and, as a result, I let them keep me from writing at all. Suddenly I am the cow in the field separated from the other green acres only by the vent that crosses the gate-less road; it was always here and available to me, I just had to have faith and step over.

Over it (all of it) I am and thus, I'm here. It's time.