So, I’m starting to get used to the look on people’s faces–the LOOK–when I tell them our upcoming plans. The conversation goes something like this:
Friend: Hi Jen.
Jen: Hi friend.
Friend: So what’s been going on with you?
Jen: Well, we’ve got some big changes coming up. First, we’ll be getting five chickens this weekend. Then a family with two little boys will be moving in with us the following weekend. There’s a lot to do to get ready.
Friend: (giving the LOOK) Wow… that’s… uh… interesting.
It is interesting, and also terrifying, hopeful, exciting, overwhelming, exhausting, etc. Yesterday as we were finishing the chicken coop (i.e. as cute husband was out in the HAIL screwing plywood over a door that there was no time to finish) and our soon-to-be housemates were painting their bedroom, I found myself pacing the first floor of the house, wading through the piles of laundry (oh, we can’t leave things like this once we have another family living here), wondering if the chickens would be eaten by racoons (can they scratch through plexiglass in one night?), and half-heartedly refereeing kid arguments (Girrrrrllllls… if you share you can come with me to get the chickens in a little bit. How about a lollipop?).
I was processing. I still am. And that’s what this blog is about–documenting a journey, a journey that seems so crazy (oh so worthy of the LOOK), but one that will become regular life around here.
Oh, and by the way, the chickens did make it through their first night, leaving an astounding quantity of chicken poop in their wake. And the housemates finished their room-painting sometime after I was sound asleep (passed out) last night… they have great taste in colors.