We moved. Do I need to change the name of this blog? Am I re-starting it?
I now live in Ann Arbor, a few blocks away from the house where I lived from ages 7 to 17. Our street feels about as rural as you can get and still be within the borders of the town. Hawks fly between branches in the morning. Crows fill a tree in our backyard at dusk.
We have left behind the enveloping sound of the highway. A December snowfall muffles even the distant traffic. We are within walking distance from coffee and wine and the company of friends. But we grieve the beautiful studio space, the bat house, the claw foot tub installed amid endless complications, the diamond shapes in the woodwork, and the soul of a house that J created and recreated over many years. We hope its new owners hold it close.
I left my full-time job. My days are filled with concerns I had pushed aside during months of work-focused myopia: my daughter's education, unfinished New York real estate business, the details of health insurance plans, and the larger question of finding my way.
What next? Other full-time job temptations have surfaced. Jobs continuing on the ed reform path, involving travel, new business suits, and the persuasion of spreadsheets. The alternative promises the catch of breath at a dwindling bank account, but perhaps the opportunity to build something new.
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