It seems hard to believe that I’ve yet to share this huge news for our family with all of you. I think I’ve been pretty tight-lipped on the whole thing because there were so many steps leading up to it, so many things that needed to happen first, that I wasn’t letting myself get completely excited until I knew it was really, truly going to happen.
At the beginning of next month we will be leaving Woodlawn and moving just a few minutes up the road to my grandfather’s farm.
I hinted at this on Instagram several weeks ago and so many people were stunned. After hearing the story of how we ended up at Woodlawn it was hard for them to believe that we’d be leaving. I totally understand.
But behind the scenes, even from day one, Dan and I had this strong feeling that we wouldn’t be at Woodlawn forever, or for very long. Without getting into all the details, I will say that it’s been a challenge these past four years. It’s hard living in a place that you’ve fallen out of love with, after falling so hard. It’s hard to live in a place that you know isn’t the right place for you. And it can be hard living in a place that you know you eventually need to leave, without knowing where in the world the next place will be.
But like so many other times in my life, God had everything under control. And this next step is better and more perfect than anything I could have worked out on my own.
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey.” –Wendell Berry
In just a few weeks, we’ll be moving into the main house on my grandfather’s farm. If you’ve followed me on Instagram or even here for very long you’ve already had many glimpses inside and outside of Waffle Hill farm. It’s been the backdrop to some of my favorite photographs and favorite last-minute family suppers at picnic tables perched on the top of the hill. It’s become our Christmas evening tradition and the scene of many sledding parties and Robert Burns’ dinners.
My grandfather has built a beautiful addition on the side of the house, designed by my architect brother-in-law, that we’re all swooning over. He’s happy as can be and we are so blessed to have the privilege of living right next door. I’ve watched my girls become attached to him these last few years and I’m so grateful they’ll get to grow up with him so close by.
Moving into Waffle Hill feels like the passing of a torch I’m not sure I’m fit to carry. Grandpa and Gammy were hard-working, giving, talented people and the house and farm has their fingerprints all over it. Family has been going through the house these past several months, cleaning out, sorting, saving, remembering. As each room is undone and peeling paint and cracked walls and dust is exposed, my heart is overwhelmed. Not with the work that’s ahead but with the gift that we’ve been given.
I am grateful for our years at Woodlawn. I’ve learned a lot of important lessons here. But I’m also ready to let her go. We’ve already begun packing boxes and moving things up to Waffle Hill. Next week we’ll take a break for the county fair and the girls’ sheep show, and then we’ll focus completely on the move. Our goal is to be moved in before school begins.
I am so excited to share this journey with all of you. And to give you glimpses along the way as we add our fingerprints to the ones already on this place.