Of Gypsies and Cowboys

All this is to say that for I am growing impatient and eager and…desperate (!) for a return to my own house, my own stretch-out-in-it living space. I can hardly wait. I can HARDLY wait!!! The couple we work for is building a killer caretaker’s cabin. It’s gorgeous. It’s small and perfect and detailed with thought and design. We are going to create a home within it and it will be wonderful.

However…. My sense of impatience needs to be yet another “breathe in…breathe out” moment in this journey. The cabin is going to be finished someday. It’s coming. Whether we spend this Christmas in it or not, or whether we have to keep waiting: we know that as long as we continue good work here we will move into that special dwelling place, we will settle in and have coffee on the veranda and read books by the fire. I planted bulbs in the rocky area in front of it this morning in hope of seeing them bloom from my own windows there in the spring. Plant and wait.
For the moment, we are living in the main house; a huge log cabin with gorgeous furnishings. Our room is fantastic and we are exceedingly blessed. We have access to so much more than we deserve and we spend each evening in a place beyond what we could ever afford. So, I embrace the wait and skip down the stretching road and look ahead with hope and expectation, and patience.
(and, if you can tell, I am so tired and will now, with hope, skip to my bed…)