We're packing y'all! For everyone who kept us in your thoughts and prayers after I wrote this post,  thank you. God was so faithful to us, and we're in the process of buying a starter home that we love! We'll be moving about 15-20 minutes west of here, to a beautifully rehabbed 1870's home in West Chicago. It is the perfect stepping stone for us in this time in our lives; it will allow us to stay in the more immediate area for another 5 or so years, while moving us closer to ultimate farm dreams (both physically, as it is moving us westwardly, and as a necessary and welcome intermediary life phase). So while I may not be allowed to have chickens for a few more years (though you'd better believe I'll be working on having those city ordinances changed!), we will be acquiring a nice little yard with fruit trees and berry bushes and a couple of raised beds, all ready for us, and we're eyeing a nice spot on the roof that may just house a beehive or two eventually. The bigger house and little plot of yard will offer many wonderful opportunities for some suburban homesteading indeed!

We're not totally sure if we'll be closing on time (we were originally supposed to close this Friday), but we're crossing our fingers to at least close before our lease is up at the end of this month. Either way, we have to be out of here by June 1st! So we've gotten a head start on packing (with much thanks to my mother-in-law, who is a very skilled and motivating packer). It's a bittersweet time; we are excited to move, but it's sad to see three years of our life, and Indy's only home thus far, sliding down off the walls and into boxes. We've spent most of our married life here, celebrated three Christmases, brought home our first baby and found out we were expecting our second baby in this space. So many good meals around that diningroom table, so much careful creating of spaces, just so many memories. I don't know how it will feel when its finally empty and we walk through it that last time and drive away: probably pretty heart-breaking, for sure. 

Anyways, we've made good progress and still have quite a ways to go with getting all our things into boxes. We have collected a lot since we lived in that studio where our bed was in the closet! We'll no doubt get rid of some stuff, but probably on the unpacking side of things (it might seem counterintuitive, but its much easier for me to just mindlessly cram things in boxes and postpone worrying about the careful evaluation of what should go when we have the luxury of leisurely unpacking and sorting at the new house). I'll make sure to snap a few pictures after closing on the new house to share here, so stay tuned!

We've been house hunting. It's been fueled by multiple things: our growing famiy (and dwindling storage space), desire for our own washing machine, for a driveway, for the freedom to paint kitchen cabinets and rip up bathroom tile, for at least a little bit of yard to garden and play in the snow. We're also planning a homebirth for this baby, and the privacy of a house would be nice. While our ultimate goal is to move a little farther west of us where there is more land for us to farm and keep some animals, we need to spend another 3-5 years in this area before that can happen.

The so far fruitless hunt has put me in a funk and created a sense of being in limbo; we dream about the possibilities that moving to a starter home could offer us, but we face the real possiblity that we might not find something and could end up spending another year in our apartment. We like our apartment; it's charming with its hardwood floors and tall ceilings. It has been such a clear blessing, but we've got that stirring feeling like its time for the next thing. That feeling unavoidably leads to a restlessness and anticipation that might be disappointed. 

I don't know about you other apartment dwellers, but I already struggle a little bit with apartment living, and the promise of something better in the (possibly) near future just magnifies that. They are these strange little vacuums of space, even more cut off from nature than a suburban yard, practically seasonless. It's really self-torture to dream about farming all day, with all of its seasons and changes, from the confines of a second story apartment surrounded by several blocks of concrete (even though my farming love has to remain unrequited for several more years either way, any house with a a plot of grass is at least a step in that direction.) After every season passes, I'm left feeling like I've only dipped my toe in the pool from outside my apartment window, and haven't submerged myself fully in its essence. Not much about our practical living really changes in here, other than what kind of shoes we put on before we go outside. In the summer it is hot (because we just have two window a/c units) and in the winter it is hot (because we don't control our crazy hot radiators). 

The whole thing leaves me feeling. . . uninspired. I often try to think of something from our lives to share here, and end up thinking nothing has changed, nothing is new. I wandered around the apartment yesterday snapping random pictures of some of the little things that make me happy in our apartment (hence the random pictures in this post). When I was done I was still feeling pretty unsatisfied, but it did help along a necessary thought process about all of this: that we need to trust God with our current circumstances regardless of what they are, that there is beauty to be found everywhere (though in some places it feels harder to find), and that even when your dreams are fulfilled you can still end up feeling unsatisfied if you haven't been practicing contentment. God has proven Himself faithful to me thus far in my life; I want to control this situation but I need to trust that if nothing works out now and we face another year in our current situation it is because He has something in store that is not ready yet. That has absolutely been my experience in the past. So many times I have found myself lamenting the time and emotion I had wasted when I should have just been patient for God's plan and timing. Not to mention all of the joy and beauty that is always to be found around me if I'll change my attitude and look for it. 

Admittedly, I'm still in a creative, and otherwise, funk. I doubt I'll kick it fully if we stay here, but I'm working towards trust and a positive thought process. Plus, we have a baby coming in June no matter where we are, and it's not hard to find joy there.