Moving

When I was in high school, I had big dreams of going to college in some big, busy city far from my quiet, rural midwestern town. I ended up going to college a few hours from home in the same state. It was a good school with some great teachers and students from all over the place, but there was a tiny part of me that thought maybe I'll go to graduate school in a big city and live in a little garret. Then I met and fell in love with my husband. And what luck! He was in Navy ROTC, so I now had a ticket to see the world! We haven't been stationed overseas, but we've had our chances to visit foreign countries and to see the country to a certain extent. And most places where we've lived have been close to water. Hence the title of this blog. That, and the fact that we do have a view of back bay from our back

yard. (Same bay, someone else's yard in the title.)

The irony is that now I sometimes daydream about a little farm somewhere in the midwest where we can stay put and grow things, including roots.

I write that last line knowing that we are settling in, at least putting in surface fibrous roots, if not deep tap roots. With each move, my first impressions are how different everything is; my last reflections as we leave are about how we've come to love the people and places where we have been. My kids are growing up in a very different way than I did. But I hope, trust, that at some point in time they find that there is only one place where home is not a relative term.