these thick Augusts
I write this post from a new town, a new home. And all our furniture is taking its first breaths of air since March, I have Febreezed everything and washed all the dust off the Tupperware and glasses. And yesterday was the first time I'd felt it. The rain fell enchantingly from the sky and soup simmered on the stove and piles grew in the sink and it hit me for the first time since we'd been here, the first time since we'd been homeless, since we've gotten married, really: Welcome, long-awaited normalcy . Intangible, inexpressible, and yes, fleeting. I knew normalcy was never the goal; I knew stability could always be (and was, often) ripped out from under us. I knew travel, moving, and packing were part of the job we have. I'd prayed for many things to occur after we'd moved here but this feeling was not on that list. Yet it flooded my heart warmly as I listened to the rain and emptied the dishwasher. I had planned to write about my hatred for this time o...