New zip code.
New three-bedroom home.
New American culture to mesh ourselves with.
New goal of saving some quality kid-free time for myself.
New blog for capturing the memories I make with my family.
New beginnings beg for explanations, so this is an attempt of my definition.
Surviving another move? Affirmative. While driving 950 miles is no biggie, adding two kids and a yellow Penske that travels 45 mph, made getting to our new destination interminable. Those things I won't miss: diesel fuel prices for a thirsty moving truck, greasy fast food at rest stops, and cheap motel rooms along the way. As much as I pride myself in adapting well to change, I appreciate stability even more--and it feels so good to plant my feet into new ground.
My heart dropped a little as we crossed the Indiana border and passed through my beloved Ohio; these two places have made my life sublime in their own way. I have left so many good people behind. I really hate goodbyes. In fact, I avoid it and live my days in denial. If you hate crying, like me, this is a great coping mechanism to prevent the weepy flood gates. Home is now the Upper Connecticut River Valley (or the Upper Valley as the locals call it). It's a region within both New Hampshire and Vermont with rich American beauty and history. So far, we're impressed by the down-to-earth friendliness of our new neighbors and friends.
We will live, work, play, go to church, shop, eat, grow, ski, hike, explore, and make new memories in the two of these New England states. I like to think of it as a dual state citizenship. Not really, but kind of. I have triple state citizenship if you count Quebec, but silly me--that's Canada. With the Canadian border not quite two hours away, you might as well call it local. (I'm prepared for a sister-in-law of mine to harpoon me with that statement. So be it.) It's only the beginning, but I have already fallen in love with the Northeast. But many good things come to an end. Three or four years from now when we will be taking a new job, we may be wishing to live these years again.