With A Grateful Heart, I’m Peace-ing Out

by Sweets and Sweaters

Do duh lee doo. (or… la da dee da dee. we like to party.)

I don’t have any pictures to add to this post or new adventures to share about… I only have an urge to write. (It could just be my way of procrastinating going to the gym right now).

Summer is here and I’m preparing to move out of my grandpas basement to a newly built house just 15 minutes from either Twin City.

I feel embarrassed admitting the situation I’ve been living in these past seven months, but I feel that in order for this next phase to be fully understood and celebrated, I must come to terms with and admit where I’ve been.

I’ve been in basement with nightly centipede encounters, no closet, no shelves and no privacy. After my family and I moved back from LA we didn’t have any money and didn’t have another option we could see but to ask my grandpa for a place to stay for a couple months while we figured it out. After the pleasures of Christmas passed by, the new reality started settling in. Weeks turned into months and it’s now been seven and there is a definite end in sight.

Four days, to be exact. When the six month winter eventually ended and nature quickly transitioned to spring, my life rolled right along with it. It seemed abrupt, like I’d woken up from a long, dark sleep and the sun was out and there was hope.

My rustic Parisian vase will soon be on display and I will have a bed and space of my own.

Also the Tuscan kitchen my mom and I have always dreamed of will feel like such a luxury when I think back on the kitchen I’ve been sharing and the small fridge, inside which our food had one designated shelf and drawer.

From this- to the kind of kitchen one feels warm in and knows that sharing food is the same thing as sharing love. Where there’s plenty of counter space for me to sprawl out all my baking necessities and the entire fridge is mine to store all-you-can-eat kale and spinach.

Instead of my clothes thrown atop one another with no sense of order, I will have a closet again. To hang my clothes in a way that assures I appreciate them.

And from a full or twin sized bed with dirty sheets I’ve shared with my thirteen year old sister to a queen sized memory foam sleep number. (The bed designed in an angel dream.)

All of this becomes my new reality in four days. And these seven months of discomfort and tension will be forever behind me and my family. I can’t lie or pretend it’s been anything other than hard, but I’m almost through it.

I will, however, always be in awe of my grandpa (and his wife) for agreeing to let us stay as I understand it can’t be easy to suddenly be sharing your house with three more people.

It’s important to remember there is room for gratitude in this most undesirable of circumstances. And that is why I feel like… With a Grateful Heart… I’m Peace-ing (the Fuck) Outta Here.

Here’s to all the baking to be had, all the olive oil I’ll cook things in, all the desserts I’ll bake, all the time I’ll spend alone and all the nights I’ll sleep on a bed that feels like Heavens’ clouds.

Here’s to the generosity of my grandpa for opening his house when we were desperately uncertain of where our lives were going. May he not be offended by this blog, if he ever sees it, but rather, know I’m grateful and impressed by him for saying yes, but also how crucial it is for all of us to expand our daily sense of space that is our own.

And four days from now it’s good bye centipedes and air mattresses, hello Tuscan kitchen and bedroom doors that lock.

Thank you nature for how quickly winter can sometimes change to spring. I hope I always remember that winter, though, and remember all it’s taken to arrive here… in a powerful Spring.

I can’t wait to share with the internet all the adventures in decorating and baking and painting and cooking. It’s gonna be so fun.

Happy living, everyone.

Until next time. Au revoir.