We bought a house. A farm, actually. After five ambivalent years, California had had enough of us, spitting us out with enough force that we landed in Ocala, Florida. We want to be here, but the transition was hasty and the need to land 15 animals safely motivated us to claim a place that, while expansive, boasts a fair amount of imperfection, from our perspective anyway.
It occurs to me that this expansive imperfection reveals quite a bit regarding my manner of dreaming things into being, but I hope not to dwell on that, not yet. I’d rather start with the thing we are doing now, which is establishing a relationship with the property, the house. Listening to it. Putting ourselves out to it. Dislodging it from what seems to be it’s deep rut about what it is and suggesting to it what it could be.
Welcome to that journey.