~tiny life~

As a blogger since 2010, I have made hundreds of blog posts from all over the country.  In some of the strangest of places I have sat at a computer keyboard and talked about things that were meaningful to me.  

One of my very first blogposts came from the inside of a tent near the high school at Tribune, Kansas on the Bike Across Kansas of 2011.  It was very short and sweet, probably no more than 100 words as I passed along to my family and friends back in Hutchinson that I was alive and well with a thousand other cyclists whose ambition it was to peddle across the great state of Kansas.

I wrote dozens upon dozens of stories from the dining room of my old house back home in Reno County, Kansas.  The most memorable of them were from the over 9 months of recuperation time it took when I broke my left arm in an unfortunate bicycle accident right in front of my own house one August morning in 2011.  I learned to type one-handed and sometimes it was with excruciating physical and mental pain that I did so.  Those blog posts saved me from the despair I felt after being laid up so very long from an accident that was of my own making.  Note to self~Don't ever jump a curb again head on going 10 mph.  It didn't work then and it won't work now.

Writing proved to be a way that I could work through some extremely hard times in life, moments when I felt depressed or lonely.  When I married Mike in 2013 and moved away to the mountains of southwestern Colorado, I was very homesick for my friends and family back on the south central Kansas prairie.  To sit down and write about how I was feeling ended up helping me get through those awful first 3 months, and now that I look back at those stories I realize just how much a help it really was to be honest about my feelings.  To write a story against the backdrop of the snow covered San Juan Mountains is a writer's dream come true.

This morning I am writing from a place I never thought I'd be, not even my wildest of dreams.  Yesterday Mike and I moved into a tiny cabin here in town, a place about one eighth of the size of where we are used to living.  We put our house on the market the second week of January, feeling sure it would take at least a couple of months before someone bought it.  Much to our surprise, it was sold within the first week.  With school going on until mid-May, we had an obvious need to find something quickly to live in.  For the next 5 weeks, this "tiny house" will be our home.  We moved in everything yesterday that we felt was needed, but ended up taking some of it back to storage because there just is no room.  It's a nice and comfortable place, one that will provide shelter for us in the days ahead and for that we are most grateful.

When I woke up this morning, I felt uneasy.  It is the kind of feeling one has when they attempt something new and most certainly out of their zone of comfort.  I knew that the best thing for me to do would be to get my laptop out and write a story about how I was doing with the change.  30 minutes later, I feel much better.  

We never know where life will take us, and most certainly never have an idea of what really lies ahead.  It would be easy to feel panic stricken, especially during times of challenges and uncertainty.  Mike and I are taking life in bite sized pieces these days as we finish out the school year and Mike's job in town.  The same God who watched over us in Colorado and now here along the Red River will watch over us as we plan our move to Newkirk in just a few months more.

No need to worry about us.

We are going to do just fine!