Moon and Stars Watermelon and all the Reasons Why

We have finally settled it. Shaken off the dust and started to get comfortable. The last boxes broken down, the pictures hung and books tucked into their moss green shelves. Over the course of the last few months I have had to convince friends that the "settling" part was a good thing. A bold and brazen thing. We were not choosing a life of less than, we were not making a choice based on second best. We wanted to move to Kansas, as difficult as that was for some of the ones we held closest to reconcile. What are you going to DO there?, they asked. Then we told them, truly from the core of who we are, that it was for a slower life. For time. For quilt making and growing things and room to do nothing. They shook their heads in astonished disbelief. Boring, some said. Perfect, we said.

It has been a whirlwind few weeks and now that I can finally breath I am both in slight awe and bewilderment about the fact that we are actually living here. Not that the 1,800 mile drive didn't hammer that home mile by mile but, it has taken a moment for it to root in me. New air. Thick and warm and full of humming. New sky stretched out far and wide roiling with thunderclouds thick as heavily whipped cream. The ruby tomatoes and pearly silver ears of corn from someone's little farmstand. A fantastically sexy and sweet watermelon called Moon and Stars. New. And this life fits like we have been living it for years and years.

The windows are open and through the heavy soupy summer air I hear locusts and crickets, see fireflies and a dusting of the nights first stars. It's a glorious thing to behold. I am home. And it feels just right.