Alright, so when it comes to quality blog posts, I'll be the first to admit: it's been radio silence around here. Would you believe it if I suggested that after three months, we're still working on getting settled in, here? I say "we" as if maybe "we" are not settled, but actually I think it might just be me.

For whatever reason, this place still doesn't feel like home and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because, for six years, this was where we vacationed and not were we lived, worked and took out the garbage, Maybe I have to shake the vacation-laced schema before going to Meijer will feel like grocery shopping and not just a trip to grab s'more supplies. Maybe it's because it's still summery and all the vacation essentials are right there and I can't feel it until winter comes and wipes away the final vacation feelings.

I don't know. I'm just guesstimating.

In any case, I'm not suggesting that it's not good -- just that something still has to click to make it feel like my real life. I cleaned all of the baseboards in our house yesterday -- and you'd think that something as mundane and tedious and "real-life" as that would do it, but nope.

I'm going to get real sad for a quick second -- maybe it's because Jake's not here. Last time things felt normal, I had three dogs and one of 'em was naughty enough to cause the kind of trouble that is so un-vacation-like, he just kept me rooted. Cleaning up poop in your kitchen will do that for you. The turkey who will find the one piece of rice at the bottom of your trash can -- and rip everything out to get to it -- that's a treasure chest of "this is reality" reminders.

I'm not complaining because when things are so good that you feel like you're on a constant vacation -- well, then maybe you have nothing to complain about. That said, I'm looking forward to when my house feels like home and my city feels like my city.

I guess when things change so drastically, it takes more than a few weeks for the brain to catch up. I didn't just change jobs, I went into an entirely different industry. I didn't just move homes, I took one less personality with me and my family changed. I didn't just leave all of my friendships in Lansing -- I came to a place where I know nobody, and challenged myself to build new ones.

Good things take time, right? And it's probably stupid to expect that three months in one house could come close to feeling like the three years spent in the previous one. Not yet, anyway. You have to build good things. Someday I'll be like Drake and all "started from the bottom, now we 'ere" with brand new memories that feel comfortable and cozy and just like home.

But for now, I'm doing the "started from the bottom" part.

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Oh and look at these dorks. Do they just absolutely melt all the sads?