Where to begin...
Maybe with an apology for just all of the sudden jumping into your email box after prolonged silence. I have been recovering from a divorce and heartbreak, where I lost my partner, lover and friend; I lost a dream, a home, a future and a garden (some of you know how difficult that can be). I've spent 2 of the last 3 years in a fetal position, incapable of joining society, crying and praying for a healing in the relationship, wondering if I was pleading with a disinterested God. But I've come to understand that the answer was simply not what I had hoped. Ex husband now is newly married and I am forced to relinquish the hope that was keeping me sick and move on with my life.
All of the sudden things have started changing. After trying for a year to get into a little brick bungalow (this was the one I blogged about over a year ago, sure that it was going to be mine) in a scary part of town and being thwarted at every turn, someone else got the house. I frantically searched, my resources being limited, for something else, found an 80 year old farmhouse with a detached garage with an unfinished apartment above. The house was on a double lot full of sunshine, had 2 fig trees, a pear tree, a plot for a vegetable garden, even room for a chicken coop if allowed. "This," I said of the yard, "I could love... but I'm not so sure of the house." Almost on impulse I signed a contract, confident I could transform the dark cave into a home. I could barely catch my breath before the contract was approved, closed, and I was handed the keys. I spent a week tearing out all the dusty blinds and dark drapes, priming and painting the maroon floors a shiny white, and painting over the drab olive green walls. I spent another week moving in my books and art and furniture.
I now wake up giddy every morning to my charming little sunlit home. I walk with delight through the rooms, astonished that they're mine. I am in the process of converting the garage into an art studio, where I will be painting again after almost 3 years of not. I have recovered all that I lost. Well, almost. But more than I ever believed could be possible in so short a time. I am immensely grateful to that Someone I did not believe was hearing me.
You'll be hearing more from me because I'm fiddin' (as some say in these here parts) to go back to France. I leave June 12 and will return home July 3. I then leave to teach a couple of workshops in Ireland! That'll be the first week of August. I'll be writing about all of this. Mostly because if I don't write, I won't remember any of it. It's a journal for me, but many of you say you love it and want more. It also helps a little with marketing; several people have joined me in my workshop in France because of my blog. So be prepared, more pictures of France and Kippy and my fellow students and their work, the food, the landscapes, Paris and the magic of that wonderful country are on the way.
I may bore you with pictures of my humble abode too. Here are a few.
Must go now. Jody Arias is getting ready to speak to the jury.
