I can't believe this is my first blog in nearly two months. That is insane to me.
This is the longest I've ever gone between blogs. It wasn't because I didn't have an opportunity to write...I only went a grand total of five days without Internet during the move.
It wasn't because I didn't try to write...I actually started a post about my resolutions results and got about two minutes into it before running out of steam.
About three days later, I returned to the post just long enough to decide it was crappy and I wasn't going to finish it.
It wasn't even because I was too busy to write...so many days I have spent bored out of my mind looking for something to do here. Writing would have made for a pretty sweet escape.
No, I haven't written because I'm lost.
I am lost in the woods, yes. Though my last name, my accent, my love for rustic home furnishings, and my husband may have led people to believe otherwise, I am not--I repeat, I AM NOT--a small town country girl. I have never in my life lived anywhere without a mall or a Super Target. I have never in my life lived anywhere that has only one Starbucks (inside of a grocery store, to boot.) And I have never in my life lived anywhere with only two McDonald's--neither with functioning playlands. (Though the latter was not nearly as important to me until recently.)
But more specifically, I am lost because I am still trying to figure out who I am going to be here. I had this master plan to become "Suzie Homemaker" when I moved here. I knew that our time here would be brief, but I figured I could make the most of it cooking these delicious meals, decorating the new house, and planning all kinds of creative activities for the family. Turns out, I do not know how to cook on an electric gas range and burnt my first three suppers right out the gate. I was so overly excited to decorate the new house that I finished most of it the first week. And my son is so tired of arts and crafts that he won't even pick up a crayon anymore.
Apparently Suzie Homemaker will be better saved for another duty station.
So I can't be something new here, but what's worse is I feel like I can't be who I was before, either. It is too cold to run regularly here right now. (I have also learned that running in the ozarks is MUCH more challenging than running in the pass. Stupid, beautiful, wooded hills.) I have no friends to chipper up our otherwise quiet afternoons. I have no oldest child to care for the majority of the work week, which makes my quiet days even quieter. I have no organizational involvements. No clubs. No groups. No life. (No wonder I've had nothing to blog about!)
So here I sit with nothing to say. Hoping that something happens to spark some inspiration. Hoping that I learn to like my new church as much as my last one. Hoping that I'll make a friend, somehow, somewhere. Hoping that this place really is the playground I think it will be for us in the summertime when the ground thaws. Hoping that country music is right, and that small town living really is the best kind of living. Hoping that I find myself here.