Doubt

As the bleak winter waned and tornadoes threatened, I began to wonder whether our move was wise. Commitments in the northeast are plentiful this year, and if we were to fulfill them all, we would be flying to CT every month from April to September and again in December. One night I confided my fear to Joseph. Were we crazy living down here while the majority of our friends and family remained in the northeast? It's not a question easily answered, but we decided to at least give our home the benefit of the doubt for a full year. Overall we'd been very happy with our decision to live in the south, but doubt can be a scary beast.

As if the heavens knew we needed a pick me up, spring exploded upon us. The lawn turned bright green, the trees blossomed.



The commute to work was peppered with purple blossoms on the highways.

Our horse neighbors returned to the front pasture.




Our baby chicks arrived.



I dug into the earth and discovered I loved gardening.






Our neighbor posse resumed weekly get togethers.

Get togethers at our neighbor's house are food for the soul. Their house is cozy and unpretentious and we gather around their roaring outdoor fireplace.



One of our neighbors is a luthier and he builds and plays beautiful guitars. His singing is unassuming and perfect. Many of the gatherers play his instruments. We shoot the shit with intermissions of bluegrass songs. We bat jokes back and forth about southerners and northerners and laugh until we cry. It's completely informal and unlike any experience that you could pay to attend. Even those of us who play no instruments are immersed and involved in the music. It's beautiful and real. His wife is an artist and natural host who with no observable effort makes you feel right at home. And when we are there, in the company of good friends, and music under a beautiful starry sky, all of my worries and doubts melt away, and I know we are home.