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Our beautiful Indiana mansion.

This coming week is the week: we’re moving. Everyone is excited and busily working to be ready but I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit it’s all a bit bittersweet. Every time we move away from somewhere, whether it’s something we’ve known about for years, like when Jack finished up school and Iowa and we relocated to Indiana for work, or whether it’s a move that’s come quite unexpectedly, like this move, that came about within a matter of weeks, I always catch myself reminiscing about the time we’ve had. At our Indiana mansion, we’re down to the lasts.

All ready for church.
Today was the last Sunday in our current ward, a place where we’ve learned and grown, served and felt like family.
One last Sunday nap.
One last bath.

(Have I mentioned I’ll miss my tub…?)
We’re down to the final days at our playground…
…and we’ve finished off the last of the ice cream.
The last chance to catch toads…
…and petting the horses over the fence.
We had our last guest riders at the house.
 And the quiet mornings doing chores.
 The last time reading together in Henry’s room and baking together in the kitchen…

All of these lasts would be unbearable if it weren’t for all the firsts that are coming up. There will be a new ward, more toads, plenty of reading, lots of Sunday naps, time in the kitchen, friends coming over to ride, quiet mornings, and so on and so on.

Really, these aren’t lasts at all.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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