Brad and I headed out west this weekend so I could meet the new house.
I confess, I was scared and felt like I was going on the biggest blind date of my life.
Or, more accurately, like I was the bride at an arranged marriage.
A woman's touch?
Or just some window treatments?
I am happy to report that the new house is lovely.
A far cry from our center hall colonial, but it has the potential for true desert beauty.
I am excited now. But, initially, there was some weeping.
Poor Brad. It was hard for me to explain that the tears weren't just about crown molding and entryway tiles. They were all tied up in leaving friends, baby furniture and peony bushes behind. Turning 40 and sending the twins to first grade. Figuring out the next chapter in my life.
And besides, all brides cry a little. Right?
I'll be just fine.
Now we're home and I'm gearing up for the final trek west.
(But it might not be much of a honeymoon.)