A year in the life ...

This time last year, I was gearing up for our move to Minnesota after 12 plus years in Michigan.  Mark would be househunting and starting his new MN job in January, and the kids and I would be packing up our house for a late February move.  Since then I have:

• said good-bye to very dear friends and to an idea of myself based on external factors
• repainted our new place's interior when our belongings were delayed
• assisted my oldest during a very rough transition to his new school (never before has summer break come with such relief for him)
• watched as my youngest settled in more easily than expected, and been in awe as she denied living here ("I like gray" in response to the blue skies of a Minnesota winter)
• experienced travel baseball (never again)
• seen a chance to perform with high schoolers ease my middle schooler's pain
• found one studio willing to give me a shot teaching
• created a studio space and made lots of beautiful scarves
• camped in the Black Hills of South Dakota
• attended four art shows, at which my sales were dismal
• figured out what a gift it is to live near extended family
• watched Mark return to a happier frame of mind
• learned how to pull shots and pour latte art
• hosted Michigan friends on assorted trips through the Twin Cities
• adopted a dog (a beautiful Italian Greagle)
• seen my daughter branch out in ways we had only hoped might happen with a move
• cheered on my son as he discovered a new passion for swimming
• realized how deep friendships can run and how tentative it is starting new ones

One of my scattered-throughout-the-globe friends wrote a piece that is so very beautiful about resolutions and taking leaps and falling and starting over.  This is what it has felt like.  Grand and abysmal; barely functioning and laying so much groundwork; knowing I am in the right place but not quite feeling at home.  Staying in touch with old friends helps and hinders.  I need to move forward; I get stuck looking back.  Love from my old friends inspires and sustains and saddens.  Finding new friends is harder each time I move.  But here I am, looking at 2012, ready to start tackling that list of Ways To Feel Like I Live Here.  One item at a time.

• Follow up on people's offers: coffee, introductions, job ideas
• Set aside a few days to finally nail down all our health care providers
• Keep walking the dog in the big park, looking for the elusive albino squirrel
• Practice yoga
• Try felting a tallit
• Create a more structured approach to Woolynns
• Research local art fairs based upon recommendations received this fall
• Explore our new home state in new ways each month (arboretum, Fringe festival, etc)
• Be willing to drop a few balls

Here's to a new year filled with taking leaps, falling, and starting over.
Happy 2012!