Of Gypsies and Cowboys

(I wrote this last night but was without an internet signal.)
I cannot even believe I’m sitting here, on my own couch, in front of a perfect fire in my new home. I feel as though I am in a dream; as though much of what I have been waiting for has come and is real, yet not.


I am utterly exhausted. My body has gone through a lot in the past while and I long for sleep. In spite of my desire for bed, I am forcing myself to stay awake and soak up this first evening. I cannot go to bed, it is too beautiful and the day has been too awful and wonderful and close my eyes to just yet.

We cut down a perfect Christmas tree before sundown this eveing. It’s skinny and close to 14 feet tall! We adorned it with clear lights, red glass balls, candy canes, and dried flowers. Our parcel-papered gifts are tucked underneath, minus one. The missing package breaks my heart with every glance towards that corner. But, what’s done is done and perhaps this time next year One will join us with breath and warmth.

I prepared dinner on my old frying pan on the cabin’s new stove. It was utterly fantastic.

Freshly cut pine boughs are strewn on the mantle, window frames, and cabinets. It’s one feeble and festive attempt at both seasonal decor and air purification (this place is FULL of awful fumes from various stains and lacquers).

Well, I think I must go to bed now for who knows when that baby boy will wake? Speaking of the sweet prince, he is cradled in his own bed, one that has not held his frame for close to 10 months. I wish him, and you, the sweetest of dreams.

To a day that held the very best and worst of this tumultuous year—good night.