The bluffs did it for me. We came from desert and dried up riverbanks to powerful limestone banking the sides of spring fed streams. A classic case of desert versus water. We lapped up the lushness and settled into our new home. We began our family in a home rented over the phone. The promised fenced in yard for our mammoth yellow lab was not here when we arrived. The spacious basement for entertaining looked more like a scene from Friday the 13th. We shrugged and made it work, because the yearlong lease demanded that we do.
That was 2002.
I didn’t realize that this would be the end stop for us. I thought it one more ding on the bus ride of life and we would be transferring to another bus soon enough. Randy, a meteorologist, had visions of a bigger market, but the swishing of the stream waters as he casted his fly rod mesmerized him. I, a high school English teacher by trade and a writer by heart, wished for a place closer to family, but have created a family here.
It is 2009.
We have since moved from the rental with broken promises into a house with about as many problems, but it is ours. We love it and we just keep working on making it better. Making it ours. We have two boys now, Drew (6) and Owen (3), who knock our socks off every day with their giggles, jokes, hugs, and smiles. We still have our mammoth lab, Duncan, but he is slower these days and spends most of his time lying in the fenced in yard smelling the air, than running in it.
We are home, here in the Midwest. We are at peace in our small house, in our small town, in our southeast corner of Minnesota.Looking for inspiration for notsoshinyjules, I asked Randy what his vision was for the future. Where did he see us down the line?
“Here. Our vision is now, Julie. This is our vision, this is our future, and this is our all.”
And it is.
We are home.