Moving

We have been waiting for what has felt like a lifetime for a closing date. I feel quite guilty for typing that. Our city apartment was once such a source of excitement for me. Our relationship took a giant leap forward when John and I moved in together, but as our love grew, we outgrew our sixth-floor digs. We have two chihuahuas that need a yard, and I have a place in my heart aching for another little one (think two-legged this time.)
I think it's appropriate that it is raining terrifically this week. Not that this week is dreary or miserable, but that there is a whole next stage of my life that is budding, being watered by this incessant rain.
I am so unbelievably excited to own a home with the love of my life. I get myself worked up over paint swatches and furniture deliveries (Sunday!) and wall treatments and whether I'd like to limewash our terrifically expensive entertainment unit (I do! I think...) Truly, the difference in tonal greys meant for our sitting room impedes my sleep. That and a flurry of tiny kicks from our chihuahua Milo.
I mean for this blog to remind me to sit down and be grateful during this process of making our house into our home. To inhale and look around and remember where John and I started and exhale with gratitude the wonder of where we are now.