Strawberries in my Golden Grahams

I moved. Again. Just settling in to my new place, which I love. It is a two bedroom plus storage space in a house with two other suites. Technically it's a ground level apartment, but my bedroom is underground due to a creative sloping of the front yard. I've painted it warm, yummy colours, which, incidentally and without intention, match perfectly with the hair and complexions of all my favourite people.

I was reading a daily affirmation by one of my heroes, Melodie Beattie, in which she suggests the idea that things happen too slowly, too quickly, at the wrong time, or whatever is an illusion. Timing is perfect, says Melodie. With this in mind, I say, the place from which I just moved and all the chaos and heartbreak generated there was exactly where I needed to be at the time, because it led me here.

The neighbourhood is interesting. There's a park a block away and a primary school that I will not send Kaeden to, but is nice to have around anyway. There is the Typical of Nanaimo Token Crack Shack two doors down, which is okay since it makes for delightful evening entertainment in case the satellite ever goes down. That's the other thing: the rent includes heat, hydro, laundry, and ... wait ... satellite TV. I won't get into a big schpeal about the evils of TV; it's nice to have for babysitters and for myself when I'm in the mood for a movie.

I can walk downtown from here in about sixteen minutes. I haven't tried it, but I'll bet Kaeden's grandparents are about the same distance walk in the other direction, and there is a store close enough to walk to in case I ever have a burning desire for candy worms or a tabloid newspaper. Across the street is a guy who has been cutting down and into pieces the hugest tree in the city (just a phrase; don't call the historical society to fact check) for about a week. In the dark the twisted, masticated trunk looks like a medium-sized elephant.

Upstairs is a girl I used to work with and her boyfriend. They are extremely cool and like to listen to death metal. I don't know a lot about this kind of music, but I'm looking forward to learning. They've invited me to let Kaeden play in thier part of the yard one day, and that sounds good because they have a nice garden. In back is a woman who rides a moped and is equally pleasurable to live attached to. She cares a lot about this house, I can tell, and is constantly giving me little tips on how to settle in with ease. For example, she suggested I not park so close to the road because people use our driveway for a turnabout and might take my car out. Also, she warned me about leaving things outside, in light of our twitchy neighbours two doors down. In all, I am in a good place, surrounded by good people, and I am going to stop using the word "good" now because I'm reminding myself of Martha Stewart.

All right then. Typing makes me tired for some reason. I've finished my cereal and am going to take one last look around for a little bag of screws I've been searching for since seven o'clock, then maybe head to sleep.

The night is just another way to experience day.

peace~