Remembering the Spoons

I’ve lived in Chatham for a year now. A lot has happened in a year. The walls are painted, the wild and overgrown yard is somewhat tamed, the rooms are invitingly furnished, and oh yeah, I had a baby. Thinking back to last summer, I remembered how unsettled and exhausted I felt. Everything had to find its home before I could feel at home. Thinking about this, I remembered my blog post from last year about the spoons and smiled. I’ve come a long way in a year. I feel at home in my home now. And I can always find the spoons… Last year: It takes me three tries to find the silverware drawer. I hand my seven-year-old daughter a spoon. She finishes her cereal, brushes her teeth, and we’re ready to

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