it feels like yesterday we set up camp outside and cheered for the movers to arrive to our new house. we were electric with anticipation of creating new space and discovering our new spot. 365 days later we begin selling and packing with little resemblance to the picture of still creased and spot free new feeling and a bit of the holy earthquake that rocked this house and has sent tremors for months. our shaky legs move through these spaces now familiar and what needs to stay with us and where and when will it appear again. there is currently no delivery spot for the truck.

roaming through the rooms i have flashbacks i wish i could print out for a photo album. the rectangle living room I never quite got used to where we craned our necks again to watch episodes of Good Wife and The Voice, where we watched news unfold of terrible tragedies and pull one another closer in, where we found comedic relief with New Girl or JIm Gaffigan. I picture Friday night movie nights and tapas, east coast friends visiting and warming the space and filling the room with sounds of depth and time, my first go at fire building that led to sparking warmth from October through April, and I see myself staring out the big window as the large gray clouds loom and I wonder with God.

I walk my mind to the side landing strip of a deck where herbs, tomatoes, strawberries, beans, and flowers grew. where many a yoga session took place, and many a meals where had on the small as is IKEA table overlooking our neighbors. I see Sadie and Hannah laughing, playing in dirt, blowing bubbles, eating ice cream sandwiches. My dining room had far less visitors than its seen in many years past. However, i do picture delightful evenings with mom and dad, cards and food with jaz and jon, and many many meals and rounds of Old Maid between Hannah and I.

i'll spare you the bedroom memories, your welcome, but I remain surprised by the rest and intimacy so generously given amidst such trial. i have to remember the bathroom with many maddening days of wishing potty training were over and i am happy to leave that memory here. my gray kitchen with a huge chalkboard wall was a happy space for me where i would turn on music and have chop therapy. i found out "the news" in the kitchen and so i do have a vivid flashback of horror and fear for that first instant as i let our new reality enter my brain. i picture lots of fresh food and feel much gratitude for what we are able to eat.

as i walk down the still christmas light strung stairs to the basement I remember not thinking enough about basement living when we signed the lease. i see the bright orange rug that took many a water and paint spills for tea parties and painting sessions, i see the bright blue bathroom displaying hannah's artwork. I walk into Hannah's room and picture hours of dollhouse play, house play, dress up days, clothing wars, sweet bedtime moments and reading. i thank God for the little girls who filled the room with laughter. then finally i walk down to guest room and my heart claps as i think of each wonderful visitor. i never tire of visitors. Jasmine was our first visitor to help set the joint up and then Amy, Aaron, Mom, Dad win the award for most frequent sleep overs. I see Janet and remember our fun outing to Greenwood Bingo and i see Tom and Sherry and remember a great visit to Whidbey Island and I see the Strahls (and Kim) and remember prayer time and sharing good food, I see Aunt Nanny and remember a fun walk and dinner around Greenlake, I see Melissa and Hannah Beth and think of slam packed days of goodness permanently imprinting giggles on the basement floor

where the magic really happened in my heart was actually outdoors. the many times I stepped on the front porch and set my playlist and runner app and headed for Greenlake or the zoo. the amount of times we stopped to talk to Mr. Ray, Mr. Ken, Ms. Marilyn, John or Nicole. The impromptu glasses of wine on the steps with Katlin, Dan, Ethan, Angela, and Heather. i'll miss the feeling of taking time for one another, for looking into one another eyes and sharing about our days. for sharing food and riding bikes. ill miss the comfort and kindness of welcoming and being welcomed. i know these families and faces will remain in my prayers and I am sad to leave this mini community.

We load our stuff into boxes on Wednesday with no clue of where we will be opening them again. Usually one needs employment to rent so we will float for two months at a friends house and come August, hopefully, we'll be opening the boxes again. Somewhere. In order to do something in some city. Oh God, direct our steps.

ps-im having technical difficulties with pics... hold please.