Ron and I spent a few days last week at this great little Bed and Breakfast in Durham, NC. Cozy room. Turndown service with cognac and chocolate. (I don’t drink, but I liked the touch!) Wonderful breakfast in a bright sunny room with white table linens and home made scones and a equally sunny drawing room where I sat with my laptop to complete a study assignment.
(About that, I’m back in school, but that’s another post.) I wanted to move in. I suggested to Ron that we just stay there forever but he thought that would be problematic. So — I’ve decided to turn my home into our own personal B&B. Or at least as close as possible. I want beauty and sun and coziness and comfort…and home made scones!
This is a bit of a challenge but I’m up for it. We rent a cute little condo near Myrtle Beach. We moved in in August of last year after some time of upheaval. Our big house, our DREAM house on the Inter-coastal waterway, was caught up in the foreclosure turmoil. It was everything I’d ever wanted: dark walnut floors, sun streaming into almost every room and views of the waterway. A library. Two fireplaces. And more. I thought when we moved in that the only way I would leave was when they carried my old, dead body out the door. But we don’t always know what’s ahead. We made several moves after that. Together and apart. My husband worked 3 hours away so there was a little, dark apartment there. There was a rental house in Beaufort for a while. Then I moved from place to place. Finally to an apartment with a third floor walk up. Sara shared a place in Charleston while finishing school. Simeon moved back and forth as circumstances dictated. (Those circumstances, once again, might or might not be in another post.)
But finally, this past August, all 4 of us moved from the places we were scattered to, to share a roof in this little condo in a largely retirement neighborhood just off Litchfield Beach. It was the first time in 5 years that we were all under the same roof again. We crammed our stuff into the tiny closets (it’s an old development) and under the stairs and lined stuff up along the walls. It didn’t feel like home. But the four of us were together again for a while. And we came to know each other in different and deeper ways — 4 adults making something new together. Some things were different. But we had to believe — I mean, HAD to believe — that things worked out like this for a reason. That there was, is, a plan. And in the 8 months since the move I’ve begun to see some of that plan unfold. I’ve seen my children’s faith grow. I’ve seen our son come into himself. I’ve seen my daughter’s strength and confidence emerging. I’ve seen our marriage grow and deepen. Good stuff.
My daughter found a job in a nearby city 2 months ago and next weekend she moves her stuff out and into her own place. My son is traveling a bit, but is a pleasure to be around when he’s here. And Ron and I, well, we’re getting ready to live in our own B&B! Which is what this post was supposed to be about anyway! I have pics and stuff of my projects. Oh well. I’ll share them next time.