It’s about time I wrote again …

Another post.  I started one earlier today and wrote quite a bit but I didn’t like the direction that it led.  The gloomy, rainy city weather sort of left me on a sour note that as much as I tried to hide, ended up shining through like a ray of much wanted sunshine.  The exception to that comparison is that it was the lack of sunshine breaking the rain that brought the foul and lazy mood.

This rain is getting old.  The fog is ruining my view of the Bridge so much that I can’t stand in my bedroom window and watch the traffic the way I like to.  I can hear fog horns which, oddly enough, I’ve been loving as they are a nice compromise to my distorted view.  The noise and sounds of the city are a great comfort.  I know that sounds strange but it’s true.  I’m far enough out of the downtown core that I rarely hear a siren or traffic but when I do I just sit and listen and enjoy the interrupted silence.

I don’t have a lot of humour today, just full of (shit … no no, not that) nostalgia and contentedness.  Good conversations with great friends.  Everything is coming together better than expected and karma is finally shining a little bit.  Aside from the fog, drizzle and rain, it’s a very bright place to be.  Oh my, I’m getting to the gush factor point where I’m turning my own stomach.

Now it’s time to start new plans for Greece, finish plans for Seattle and, the most important thing, celebrate with Miss Lily all the A’s she got on her report card today.  My girl is growing fast, heading to the big Grade Two with her “advanced intelligence” and “willingness to learn”.  Another bright spot, my little smarty pants.

Halifax....

Silence.

That's it. That's all I hear right now and I'm loving every minute of it. The girls are in bed, snuggled up for the night with their dolls. The boy is asleep in his crib, curled under his blanket and twitching in a dream. They're tired from the playground and the walk and the excitement of a new home, a new city.

There are older kids outside playing basketball, I'm watching them from my living room window while they laugh at each other's failed attempts at stealing the ball or missing the basket. A man is walking what looks like a German Shepard up the road and the lady the next house down is waving to him while she plants her flowers.

Almost feels like a twisted Norman Rockwell painting.

I'm finding it hard to believe I'm in a city at all while at the same time I'm loving the anonymity of it. There are still smiling faces and friendly hello's but no one cares to look twice. No drama. No expectations. I'm simply the new girl who moved into #84; she has three babies and a big tattoo. And the talk is over at that point.

This week has been one huge sigh of relief. I feel stronger, capable and resilient. I feel like I'm becoming myself again, laughing again, singing silly songs while I wash the dishes again.

I forgot what happy felt like. I'm positive I'm remembering.

After only a week I can honestly say that it will be a cold day in Hell before I would even consider going back to that Island....

Halifax is home.