Time flies. Trae and I are settling in, but we're also looking for a place to buy, land to call our own.
It has been a wild year. This time last year, I was living in North Carolina, working for WUNC, riding my bike to work everyday and planning our wedding. Since then, we've both quit our jobs, gotten married, rented out our Chattanooga house, took a memorable trip to Europe, lived with family and friends while getting new jobs, then newer jobs, found a more permanent place to live for a while, started a wild garden, and have gotten some glimpse of what the next several years of our lives might look like.
Except you can never predict that. Life is full of lemons and muskrats and raccoons eating the cat food at night. It's rat snakes in your bedroom and a new piano, wild blackberries and cockroaches, Tennessee and Canada, lightning bugs and black flies. We can't predict or assume the shape of our years any more than we can sculpt a raincloud. And I'm glad. What a burden to carry not only the years you've lived, but also the ones to come! For now, all we can do is be here, play an extra fiddle tune after dinner, go for nice walks down the road at dusk, pick the blackberries and husk cherries when they're ripe. Because y'all, it don't last forever.