creature comforts

Conventional wisdom (as well as Red from Shawshank Redemption) states that you need to "get busy living, or get busy dying." Through my final willingness to hear what has been whispered to me time and time again or perhaps it was simple divine intervention... I moved my television over to the house. I have no incredible attachment to my television. has served me well throughout the ages... several years of college... graduate school... countless moving from apartment to apartment to houses (shout out to Yardley Way) and now to growahouse where it will probably find a peaceful, intentional, and welcoming final resting place.

So I have slept at my house. I have watched Television at my house. I have ordered pizza... I have ordered buffalo wings... I have met the mailman at the edge of the driveway, and I have talked to neighbors over and through fences. I have watched the rain from the second floor window... and on Sunday evening... as I was packing up to head out, a local and old friend drove by to see if I was "home." We talked by the makeshift mailbox and had I a bag of brown sugar to lend him; it would have been a quintessential I am your friendly neighbor moment.

I reached a point where the readiness of moving into the house was not one based on a fictitious timeline or a self imposed mad rush to the finish.

It was a radiant skylight on Easter Sunday... it was an early morning mango.... it was leaning over a yet to be installed kitchen sink and imagining the fruits and vegetables that will find there home here atop a 2 inch concrete slab of a countertop (to be poured this weekend).

It is the recollection of the life and lives that have been on hold whilst the walls were growing.