Monday, March 19, 2012


My mom and dad were practically kids—18 and 22 respectively—when they packed up their bags and left home to move to a totally new place. A mere 5,275 miles away. My husband Logan has lived everywhere from Salem, Mass to Greensboro, NC; Virgina to Georgia to Colorado to DC. For good measure, he even found the time to squeeze in two years in Russia Far East.

Me? I've managed to meander my way from NJ to PA to NY, with short stints in Florence and DC to boot. For the last 6 years though, I've put down some pretty deep roots in Vermont. Of course it's hard not to daydream about what other geographic adventures life has in store, but right now my wanderlust leads me in one direction. Specifically, one mile from our current house to the land on which our new house will grow.
November 2010

For over a year we've been working on house plans, meeting with the builder who by now is more family than GC, and answering the question, "So, when will you build?" with "Not till the ground thaws." The big dig, if you will, has always been comfortably out of reach.

But now, all of a sudden, it's March. Bizarrely, the sun just set on our third day of 70 degree weather. We spent the weekend clearing out the garden, riding the swings at the park, and taking long walks that inevitably led us to the same place: 300 Cochran Road.
Today we started the process of pulling our building permits. Friday we'll meet with our lender. Before we know it, the first shovel will hit dirt and home will take on a whole new meaning.

January 2012
And away we go!

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