we get to take a little peek at a house for rent tomorrow. my excitement is pretty evident to my husband. but the thought of moving makes my nostalgia for this place even greater. though can it technically be nostalgia when we haven’t even left? details.
for a few passing moments i even think that maybe we shouldn’t move. we could just be really cozy in this place and blow endless amounts of bubbles and throw numerous leaves from the stoop outside our back door. and then my paranoid fear that elisha will reach out for that bubble just beyond his reach and tumble down the stairs takes over and i get all excited about the possibility of a new house. it’s a vicious cycle.