After a chaotic last-minute packing extravaganza, a sweltering series of 90-plus degree moving days, and several weeks of nervous dogs, boxes as far as the eyes can see, constant searches for things we use every day, and deep physical exhaustion, we have moved all our worldly possessions to one of three locations: while our two daughters’ things are mostly now in a loft studio apartment in the Chicago Loop and an adorable brownstone in Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood, the vast–and I mean vast–majority of our stuff found its way to a four-bedroom house on 1.3 acres at the edge of our metropolitan area, about a half hour drive from our old house.
The rewards of the land have already been many. Fresh peaches picked from our very own peach tree, a bouquet of hydrangeas on our new kitchen table (the first kitchen table we have ever owned), nightly visits from a family of deer, and hummingbirds finding our feeders within a day or two of my husband filling them.
The dogs have now settled in (despite scary thunderstorms and the mysterious disappearance of our daughters returning to college). They are still sticking close, but they are no longer pacing and panting constantly.
As for my husband and me, despite all the work, the view of our backyard makes us feel like we are on vacation. 🐕🌳
Wexford Lane 