Making Progress and Growing Roots

after two and a half months

It’s been almost two and a half months since we got the keys and slept in the living room at our new property. There are moments I can feel every one of those days and wonder that there weren’t more. The slow move. Prepping our old house to sell. Projects here. But other times I’m amazed that it’s already late summer and I can’t believe we’ve already woken up 78 mornings surrounded by these trees.

sunset view from the deck

My brother came for a visit at the beginning of the month and was able to finally see the property in person, to walk the land and sit with us on the deck for a meal. He described this place as looking like it had come straight out of my imagination. Could there be a more beautiful description than that?

No matter which way time seems to be tilting, I can feel how rooted I’ve already become on this bit of earth. And I can measure our progress. A new roof, gutters and downspouts — it’s amazing not to have to worry each time it rains or anxiously monitor buckets, moving them to catch each new drip. We’re completely moved in. Our house in town went on the market and is now under contract. I’ve arranged furniture and plants. Hung art (perhaps prematurely as we still need to repair walls and ceilings, strip wallpaper and paint walls).

Outside we’ve been clearing overgrowth and weeds.

before and after while we cleared the driveway and cleaned around the windmill

We’ve uncovered and removed truckloads of trash.

a truckload of trash removed from beside one of the outbuildings

This will be an ongoing, probably years-long process. But it’s satisfying to see progress and delightful to have usable space where once was chaos.

At this point we’re focused on cleaning, clearing and repair, waiting until we’ve lived in the space for a while before making any changes — even small changes like painting rooms. But we’re always thinking, dreaming, planning.

my current container garden brings me joy on the deck

My new garden is almost always on my mind and I’ve begun taking measurements, making notes, sketching out ideas and plans. I have piles of books checked out from the library and have been gathering inspiration from YouTube and blogs. We plan on building everything ourselves, but we’ll need help with some of the prep work. There’s remains of a dismantled, flattened barn, overgrown with weeds and young trees, that will need to be removed. And we need a line run from our well so the garden will have water. Currently, although there are spigots on the house in a couple of places and an outdoor hydrant, none of them work.

wild cucumber and jewelweed growing against one of the outbuildings

For now, though, repairs to the house are our biggest priority. But I’m not in a hurry. Each day here is a gift — even when the roof was leaking it was a joy to call this place home.

We were smitten the first time we drove down the driveway and every day since we’ve fallen more and more in love with these neglected acres and sprawling, rundown house.

I’m constantly observing, noticing.

I study field guides and listen to birds with the help of the Merlin app. We’re surrounded by an abundance of life and I want to learn all I can.

Each day my roots grow deeper.

Now that the initial surge of work is finished, I can begin to settle into a schedule and finally get back into my studio. My art business is flexible enough that I was able to take time off, but I need to buckle down and finish some projects — like my 2026 calendars and my next Skillshare class (about coming back to our creative pursuits after time away).

My days have taken on a rhythm. Coffee in the sunroom in the morning, writing in my journal and eating breakfast while watching the birds at the feeders. Walks with the dogs, morning and evening. Meals on the deck.

I need to get back into the rhythm of art-making. I need to create a schedule. Set goals. Start new projects. Before we moved I’d been feeling burned out. Now I am refreshed and the coming fall and buzz of back-to-school energy feels like the perfect invitation to begin again.