For the last six months, moving has consumed my life. From the end of last March when I tore up the ruined vinyl in the guest bathroom, to last Friday when I helped my husband unpack the books onto our new bookcase, every spare minute was taken up by the massive project of transporting seven people from Henderson, Nevada to La'ie, Hawaii.
But now we are here. I have time to breathe and room to grow again.
The house is smaller, but I can clean and sweep it out in a few hours. Sometimes the neighbor children come over and want to sit on my couch and play my ukulele. That's a treat! They sound a lot better on the uke than I do, at least so far. I watch and learn.
If we ever get tired of being indoors, the beach is right around the corner. And when we get adventurous we can hop in the car and find plenty of other beaches to try. There's waves to play in and sand castles to build.
But I'm not going to sit around and listen to music or go hang out at the beach all the time. I'll be teaching college classes and writing novels, building harps and taking hula classes. In short, after six long months of nothing but moving, I'm getting back to being me again.