We are living in my in-laws' house. My father-in-law died in April, and my mother-in-law has gone, at her request, to an assisted living facility. We moved to be near her and watch over her and are living in her house, again at her request. It is a beautiful, peaceful place in Dave's hometown and our beloved Midwest. Missouri, to be precise.
{Pretty}
As I write, I'm sitting on the screened-in sleeping porch off of our new bedroom. This is what I see:
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The house sits on a pond and, except for a moderately sized lawn, is otherwise surrounded by trees. I just heard a fish splash in the water, the birds are singing, and the peepers are peeping. I feel so blessed to be here!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You know how after you move there is just so much to be done? All at once? And it all is screaming for attention? So practically the first thing I did was plant flowers. I must have flowers. No matter how disorganized the rest of the house is, if I have flowers, I feel in control. It's my way of planting our family's flag in the new land, of staking our claim. "This is home," the flowers proclaim.
{Happy}
Both of Dave's maternal grandparents were artists, and this house is chock full of amazing original paintings, sculptures, and pottery pieces. Here are a few paintings done by his grandmother, Dorothea Kelsey. I think these are my favorite, though it's hard to choose! (This link tells a little about Dorothea, though there is more about her husband and Dave's grandfather, Luman Kelsey. I'll show some of his work next week.)
{Real}
Boxes and boxes and more boxes . . .
It's a good thing that smashed one in the middle is labeled "pots and pans" and not "good china"!
Join Like Mother, Like Daughter for more {phfr} fun!
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