Life for Rent...

So I did it. I signed. The gypsy has sold her tent.

See, when I caught a glimpse of the city of Dallas in my rear-view mirror last August, I had no idea where I would end up. Where I would live, even. I just knew I had to get out. Sometimes things just get a little restless in my head, and before I know it, I'm uprooting and scooting out the door.

Remember in Chocolat when the North Wind drives Juliette Binoche from town to town until she finally settles down? That's me. Only I'm not that pretty and have yet to meet Johnny Depp. (sigh) But I do plan to open a small patisserie of my own - next year. More to come on that later.

So... er... I found myself here, squatting at my aunt's house, contemplating my next brilliant move. And then one night, at a very interesting dinner party, it happened. Freeman House and I were introduced.

It came by way of Lori Ellyn. She's my mother's age, and spent some time off Broadway before settling down here - in Teeny-Tinyville - to open her own art studio. She took on the restoration of a house that was built in the 1920s, and along the way acquired Freeman House. It's next door to to her house, and Lori says she would have restored Freeman House, only it's too big and too - awful.

But I fell in love with this house the first time I forced open the old, creaky door and ventured in. The place was filled with abandoned crap and definitely had this "I've been here since 1887" feel to it. But still, I felt strangely welcome in Freeman House. It felt like maybe - just maybe - we could help each other out.

And so we have. For the last 8 months, Freeman House and I have come a long way together. I've spent many days in her, knocking out walls when I'm frustrated, scrubbing windows when I'm crying, and painting walls when I need to feel pretty.

And now she's starting to look a little like pretty, too.

Ever heard Dido's song, Life for Rent?
"If my life is for rent,
and I don't learn to buy -
I deserve nothing more than I get,
'cause nothing I have is truly mine.

Well, for the first time, I feel like my life is not for rent, because I have finally learned to buy.

So go ahead and blow, North Wind. And dance on to your music, my internal gypsy.

For I think I've finally come home.