With a lump in the throat, it all began.

Paul tells me I've been too quiet. I don't protest the idea as I know he is right. It's been difficult to know where to begin.

We moved.

Though the move was efficiently planned and executed nearly as perfectly as one would want, it was difficult. The move required placing 90% of our belongs into storage and moving into a freshly renovated fifth wheel, which we have affectionately named Rosie Cotton. Rosie is now our temporary dwelling near our new home site, close enough to keep an eye on the build. We have everything we need, but still, it's been a significant adjustment.

These days, we are maintaining two strategic plans, one for us and one for the sanctuary. We prioritize the sanctuary's needs over our own and when we feel our most frazzled, we remind each other that no one really knows how much adversity is good for them and for now, we grow stronger with our challenges. If there are two lessons that I can share about purchasing undeveloped land it would be this: 1. Don't buy undeveloped land, and 2. If anyone involved in the development of said land tells you something will be finished in a couple of weeks, strike-through the word 'weeks' and replace it with the word 'months.'

The construction flags are planted and as we wait, I find myself mowing around them, week after week, in an attempt to keep the weeds at bay for the construction crew. Having the property planned and the construction grid laid out will allow us to begin building the chicken coop. We had hoped to start this month, but the temperatures have been hitting three digits, which prevents long outdoor workdays. It looks like September will be the month. This coop is very special as it is being built in memory of a dear friend. I'm excited to share it with you.

My new commute requires me to leave Rosie at 6 AM and not return until 8 PM. At these hours, one is treated to all kinds of glorious sites, including sunrises and sunsets. I use the driving time to catch-up with Mom, or get a head start on work conference calls. On my way home, there is a place on the Santa Rosa Plateau where you will often find me pulled to the side of the road, just taking a few moments to witness the sunset and breathe with gratitude.

There is much we have accomplished and most days, we end with a deep sense of pride. Admittedly, there are some days where we crawl into bed, completely exhausted and waving a white flag. I've shared of my love for the poet, Robert Frost, and on days that overwhelm me, and I doubt every step I've taken, I am reminded by his words that one cannot wait for all the knowledge and all the skills to begin something. Rather, one must begin with insufficient knowledge and skills and simply proceed with courage.

And, that is exactly what I did when the other day, we had a visitor and I opened the gates and said, "Welcome to Rivendell."