My days have shifted, and I’m currently working afternoons. I’m a morning person, therefore I find myself restless; to the benefit of Irish who gets her walk in the morning instead of the evening. Yesterday my world was covered in a mist of fog, creating a soft morning light.

Irish and I hadn’t been out for a walk in the morning in ages, since probably back when Tim was alive and we were at the cottage.

Alot is going to change for us over the next few weeks. Yet, yesterday morning I had no idea what the day would bring. I’d awoke before dawn, still enveloped in this dream of a stranger – I have not dreamed (or remembered them) for ages. Embraced by a passionate kiss with a faceless man, I felt confused. What did that mean?, I wondered as the two of us headed out into that misty morn.

I’m often stunned by this little village I know so well. So many things have changed in my life, however in this place I find that time stands still. There are moments I am adrift in wonder though of how much I have changed.

Yesterday was a day of waiting – of news on the new abode I desire, of the new life I have ahead of me. One thing that is changing is I finally can say my grief is lifting. Like the fog as the sun began to rise, as I crossed the tracks, and passed the old farm stead, the dream of the passionate stranger drifted away and I felt the twinge of hope again.

Currently here at the homestead Dad and MsB are up from North Carolina, and writing has become an impossible dream. There is always someone about, talking, laughter, clinking, clashing, awaking, and long talks on that old front porch. This morning I sit here at this keyboard, and I am determined to figure out how to block everything and try to finish my thoughts. Yet like that dream, they are drifting and my concentration with it.

Last night when I returned from work, I checked my email and what did my eyes read but the answer to my hearts desire…the landlord of that charming pad in the city decided to rent to me. I can not describe the feeling. I’m still nervous, and until it’s all signed and the money delivered to his hand, I will remain cautious. You see I have had so much disappointment lately, that every tiny bit of hope is tinged with doubt.

Yet yesterday morn that was all ahead for me. This last picture from my walk yesterday is of the local lumberyard. Not sure why I am ending on that note…don’t believe there is really any metaphor hidden in the shot. Other then the fact it has been here for as long as I have, and decades before I was even a consideration. Heck, maybe the very lumber that built this homestead came from that yard. Perhaps there is something in that.