Last Night Mr. Nielson slowly walked through my door.
I could tell he was sad. He had jus packed up our life in Arizona in a Allied moving truck. He told me how sad it was to say goodbye to the back porch where many, many meals were served.
Hard to wish the beautiful 2-story tree-house he constructed with his own two hands good luck in hopes the new owners wont tear her down out of that awesome mulberry tree.
Mr. Nielson lay next to me in tears. He smelled like the cologne I had offered him for Christmas last year-in the house.
"I sprayed it on before they boxed it up...reminds me of Arizona...reminds me of you"
He softly said. "The kitchen was lifeless without you"
Every evening music would fill the kitchen and the children and I would dance until Mr. Nielson came home. The children would rush outside and ask for rides on his motorcycle-even before I could kiss him.
Life in AZ was a treat. The sounds, smells, neighbors, family, and our home made us, well, so happy and content.
Mr. Nielson has returned to snow-lots of it. Gray skies feel depressed against the snow-capped Wasatch mountains and I couldn't help but urge for Mesa right with him.
A new life has been promised here, and I can't wait to play in the bounty of snow with the children, dance with them in our new kitchen, and even vacuum with the new Dyson Mr. Nielson got our new home on Briar.
I could tell he was sad. He had jus packed up our life in Arizona in a Allied moving truck. He told me how sad it was to say goodbye to the back porch where many, many meals were served.
Hard to wish the beautiful 2-story tree-house he constructed with his own two hands good luck in hopes the new owners wont tear her down out of that awesome mulberry tree.
Mr. Nielson lay next to me in tears. He smelled like the cologne I had offered him for Christmas last year-in the house.
"I sprayed it on before they boxed it up...reminds me of Arizona...reminds me of you"
He softly said. "The kitchen was lifeless without you"
Every evening music would fill the kitchen and the children and I would dance until Mr. Nielson came home. The children would rush outside and ask for rides on his motorcycle-even before I could kiss him.
Life in AZ was a treat. The sounds, smells, neighbors, family, and our home made us, well, so happy and content.
Mr. Nielson has returned to snow-lots of it. Gray skies feel depressed against the snow-capped Wasatch mountains and I couldn't help but urge for Mesa right with him.
A new life has been promised here, and I can't wait to play in the bounty of snow with the children, dance with them in our new kitchen, and even vacuum with the new Dyson Mr. Nielson got our new home on Briar.
