Where I am now is home. A new home, yes, in a new neighbourhood, with a new housemate and his cat. I live in a little green house near the west bank of the Red River, in a lovely neighbourhood that both inspires and requires me to walk more. But the most important thing about where I am now, is that it is the city I love most, the city in which I became an adult, the city that somehow, over the ten years that I lived here, burrowed its prairie roots deep into my being and identity and made itself a part of me. I may not have grown up here in the Heart of the Continent, but the person I have become is so much a product of this city’s soil, grass, concrete, stucco, clapboard, rare bricks, disparate neighbourhoods, uncommonly common kindness.
This move has proven difficult and stressful, as most moves do, certainly moves across a nation so spacious as ours. I arrived 10 days ahead of my furniture and am camping out in my new room-that-doesn’t-feel-mine-yet on a borrowed air-bed, my clothes and sundry items spilling out of suitcases in unruly piles. Jack the Cat has made himself right at home, of course; I’ve discovered that he is a much more easily adaptable being than I am. Not the fragile flower I assumed he was, he’s adjusted to each new space with a spirit of curiosity and adventure, leaving the anxiety and stress-migraines to me.
So yes, dear reader, we are in a time of transition. As I settle into a new routine and begin carving out this next stage of my life, I’ll return to posting more regularly and getting back to the weekly features you’ve come to know and (hopefully) love.