I’ve been thinking about lemons lately. I’m not one to order lemons in my water but I do love them. Lemon-blueberry anything, lemon chicken, lemon desserts are all things I enjoy eating. The perfume I wear is Sugar Lemon. I’ve … Continue reading
I’ve been writing this post in my head for awhile. I wouldn’t even be writing this if I hadn’t gotten a stomach bug and called out of work. So as much as I dislike being sick, I’m grateful for a moment to write. Life’s been so busy that I can hardly believe it’s May. But I can’t let a month like April pass without comment.
Last month was the month I finally got the hang of things at work. I don’t always know how to perform a skill or know what to do. I still ask hundreds of questions and get behind on charting more than I’d like. That being said, I’m learning to roll with the punches and handle a wide variety of personalities. That whole fake-it-til-you-make-it thing has been my nursing motto and so far so good. I’ve found I get increasingly Southern at work, especially with my more cantankerous patients. A little Southern charm goes a long way.
Speaking of charm, in late March I fell head-over-heels for a boy. My mom loves him. So does my sister. See this look on my face? Clearly love at first sight.
Luke arrived as the newest member to my home group. His parents were thrilled to welcome him into the world. They have fallen into this parenting thing with such grace and determination. This little guy, he’s so loved by his family, by our group, and even by his cat.
I’m writing this on a couch in the living room- the way I usually do. Only this time, it’s different because I’m writing it on my couch from my living room. My first apartment. I unpacked my last box last night.
My move happened fast and was not without hiccups. After too many hours with too little sleep, all the decisions and change caught up with me. I ended up crying over nothing for an hour. I couldn’t stop even though I knew I was crying over nothing. My poor mom and sister tried to help but there was nothing to do. Sometimes you just have to let it out.
But tears aside, I did get moved in box by box. My family and a couple friends got everything up my two flights of stairs- even the two recliner sofas. I live on the top floor which means no noise overhead while I try to sleep during the day. Being high up also means I get a fantastic view off my balcony.
The other night I sat out there and watched the sun set. The moon came up, my favorite kind, a crescent moon. Despite being so near the city I could still see some stars. Starlight, star bright first star I see tonight . . . It may have been a planet I wished on but I threw my wishes heavenward. Wishes for the days to come, for what I hope this new chapter will hold. Wishes and thanks. When you move into your first place at twenty-seven, I think there’s a deep appreciation for what you have and how you got there. My parents were so gracious to allow me to stay at home while going through school, even though it took me longer than most to finish. And I love them so much for that and for being so happy for me as I’ve moved out.
There’s still plenty to do in my new place. There’s furniture to buy and right now there’s nothing on my walls. But I’ve made a start.
I’m loving my little place. I have a fireplace and a guest room. My kitchen is just right. I mean it’s not a brand new apartment so it has it’s quirks but I’m a firm believer that your first place shouldn’t be an HGTV Dream Home. I have so many ideas about how to make this place more my own. I’d say to make it homier but the truth is no amount of pretty things will make it feel more like home.
No, it feels more like home every time I open my doors and invite the people I love inside. Last Saturday I had my family over for dinner. I’ve made dinner for them many times before but never at my place. Friends who are now my neighbors dropped by for brownies and I am so happy to know there’s some great people just around the corner. One of the things I am the most excited about is space to invite people over. I can’t wait to return some of the hospitality I’ve been shown.
I have this board where I string up prayer requests. I tack them up so I remember to pray for them, sure. But more so because once they’re answered I move them to another line. It’s a visual reminder of God’s faithfulness. And on April 25th, I got to move this one:
Lord, through all the generations you have been our home! Psalm 90:1
And He has and will be and for that I am so very grateful.
Tennessee, you’ve been good to me
Yes, I’ve come to believe you’re where I wanna be
You may not be what everybody needs
but Tennessee, you’re good enough for me
The lyrics to Mindy Smith’s “Tennessee” have been echoing around in my heart. I was getting my haircut last week and the gal asked me if I’m from here. How do you answer that question? I mean, no, I was born in Indianapolis and we quickly moved to Michigan for a couple years. I spent my preschool/elementary years in Ohio. So, I guess I’m technically from the North. Which shows in the fact that my family still roots for the Cincinnati Reds and The Ohio State University. I also refuse to call all soft drink products Coke. A Sprite or a Pepsi is not a Coke.
But, the summer before seventh grade we moved to Tennessee. I’d spent time here before. A hallmark of my summers growing up was driving South with my grandparents to spend the time at their house in Arkansas. After a week in Hot Springs, they’d bring us kids to Franklin, TN where my aunt and uncle lived for Fourth of July. My parents would drive down for the holiday, we’d grill out, watch fireworks, and then we’d head back to Ohio. The oppressive heat and humidity defined my summer trips. The beauty of the magnolia trees worked it’s way into my heart.
So, although I was not happy about moving, of all the places I could have moved this is was the lesser of the evils. And I quickly grew to love it here. There’s nothing quite like it. I can be in the thick of Nashville in under twenty minutes. City lights, The Ryman, Hillsboro Village- these are a few of my favorite things. But while I live in the suburbs, in less than ten minutes I can be driving down a country road hollering, “Hello!” to a pasture full of baby cows. And if I want that small town feel, I can head over to downtown Franklin, which may be one of the quaintest places I know. It’s much busier now then it was when I was in high school. How many nights did we walk downtown once the streetlights came on and have only a few others cross our path? It may not be Stars Hollow but it’s close. Continue reading