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Hearts on Pine

My sister brought my attention to how she finds hearts in random places…on the beach, in an ice cube, you name it she’s found a heart in an unexpecting place. Now that she’s got me onto this, I’ve started noticing them too. She believes it’s our mom saying hello to us from above and I kinda like that theory. Here are some recent “heart sightings…”

The afternoon our real estate agent called during lunch letting us know we got Pine...

The afternoon our real estate agent called during lunch letting us know we got Pine…

In the snow on our front porch...

In the snow on our front porch…

Making black bean something or other...

Making black bean something or other…

Not at Pine but at work...still weird!

Not at Pine but at work…still weird!

I've seen a Rubberband but I ain't never seen a house fly...

I’ve seen a Rubberband but I ain’t never seen a house fly…

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Children with their ferocious two year old smiles and white-washed kitchen walls collide in my mind. Reflecting back on images of refrigerator doors void of elementary school lunch menus and birthday party invitations. Counters absent of lunch preparation, cookie cutters, and pajama’d bottoms of pancake mix mixing helpers. It’s as simple as it’s going to get right now. With every next improvement, complexity is woven into trying to get it simpler. Make it nicer. Make it better. And it all marches along with subtle line-up changes.  How-To Books on nightstands, premonitions of weekends to come, turn into quick midnight online reads in between budget sheets and portfolio site To Dos. We keep walking on our parapet we’ve established, brick by brick, we walk along.

Is it lack of stacks of memories that make our initial years in a place be recalled with fondness? An inference to ten years ago that we were more carefree? When we held onto today not being forever? Now I want each day to have permanence. Moments now seem to solidify more than ever. Will painting the walls, adding a backsplash to the kitchen, or swapping out our counters add more complexity? Ten years from now when I scroll back to our white-washed kitchen in House Number Two, will my heart pang with sentimentality for elementary school days? Maybe we can just keep it all the same and this constancy will be enough to keep our homestead happy, complete, and warm. But what if it’s all better, right now?

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