I just took my first walk in my new neighborhood. Well, technically third walk, but the first one was a morning walk in the bitter cold snap we had, and I didn’t make it too far before turning around and retreating into the heat of my home. The second was at night, and again, I didn’t venture far, as it was dark and I didn’t want to get lost. I am still learning the streets.

This morning I took a nice long walk, exploring the new streets where I live. I really like this place. I love the trees that cover almost every corner. I love the way that each house looks unique.  Some neighborhoods are what I call “cookie cutter” neighborhoods, where there are about three or four house designs and they repeat throughout the neighborhood. When I was younger, I used to say that I never wanted to live in one of those neighborhoods. I thought they were boring. Well, then I grew up and realized that when you’re looking for a house and have a certain budget to stick to, those cookie cutter houses don’t look so bad. Initially, Drew and I were considering one of those cookie cutter neighborhoods.  It was close to our budget (we would have had to do some negotiating) and the interior of the houses were really nice. But, in the end, God provided an awesome house in a non cookie cutter neighborhood. And as I walked through it this morning, I had to thank Him for that.

In our old neighborhood, we were surrounded by disrespectful kids that left bikes and toys in our driveway and wouldn’t move out of the way when you were trying to get home at night. So far, every kid that I’ve experienced in the new neighborhood has been respectful and pleasant.  As I walked this morning, a bus was arriving to pick up the middle school kids that were waiting. Often, when I see groups of adolescent kids, it reminds me of my adolescent days and some of the jerky boys that would make fun of me. Some days I want to turn around and walk the other day. Then I remind myself that they are 12 year olds and I am a 30 year old woman. Today, some of them were talking loudly as they were climbing on the bus, and I realized they were motioning in my direction. My instinct was that they were being cruel and making fun of me over something (why do some memories stick with us so strongly?) but then I realized they were commenting on my sweatshirt. I had pulled on my zip up sweatshirt that has Australia emblazoned across the front. It was the souvenir I proudly acquired on my trip there. I glanced across the street and noticed one of the boys had a shirt on that looked identical. The others were proclaiming to him, “Dude! It SAYS Australia!” One of them yelled across the street at me, “Doesn’t your shirt say Australia?” I said, “Yes it does…” and they laughed and told the other boy, “You have a twin!” and pointed him out to me. I smiled, flashed a thumbs up, and kept walking. It was refreshing to not have boys making some smart remark towards me.

As I kept walking, I encountered another young girl with her bag strapped to her, on her way to the bus stop. She smiled at me with a big, beautiful smile and greeted me. Oh, how lovely to have civil neighbors, who know how to act right.

So now I’m back home, in my cozy little home with boxes surrounding me. I’m trying to not get caught up in all that still needs to be done, and instead be in the current moment. If I get overwhelmed with the to do list, I should instead think of all that’s been crossed off. Each day we accomplish a little bit more, and that’s a good feeling.

I sat on the couch last night while Drew was making dinner, and it hit me. I’m in my new home  with my husband. Life is good. A little later that night, as we got ready for bed, I tried to push Drew over and wrestle with him. I should have learned by now that that never goes well for me. He practically body slammed me on the bed, and proceeded to try to zerbert me. I screamed, laughed hysterically, and finally got him to stop. But in those goofy little moments, especially in those goofy little moments, life is really good.