We moved to New York

I'm sitting awkwardly on the floor (probably ruining my hips), with the computer angled just right by the window to catch some free internet (courtesy of our savvy neighborhood). We are in New York, and there are so many thoughts pushing to get out that I don’t know what I should let out first.

Let’s start with this.


Because our new place has the best view in the city, right? We stood on the rooftop watching the fireworks Monday night, barely hearing them with a borough between us and them, and it was calm--- so calm, it didn’t feel like New York. The lights were dazzling, Christmas in July.


The best part of the fireworks, other than my husband's arms around me, was listening to the little girls watching on the same deck as us. That one looks like a cheerleader’s pompom. There's a smiley! (and my favorite) They really should move that building.

As we watched, I wanted so badly to be a part of it all, to feel like I belonged. But, right there in the summer warmth with America sparkling around me, I missed Scotland. I know I should stop talking about Scotland, stop comparing New York to it. Because when our over-the-door hooks don’t fit on our doors, or when I can’t find my clothes, when it’s hot in the subway and our floors feel dirty, I hear myself saying I miss Scotland. I mean, of course, is that I miss an easier life. What I know I’m forgetting is that a few years ago, I was lost in Scotland. There was a time when our stuff was strewn in a Scottish flat and there was a time I longed for Home Depot selections (and baby, are there ever selections!)

I want to be writing an I heart New York post, but it will take me a while to get there. I talked to my aunt today who lived in Scotland for 3 years; she said that when her family came home, they tried not to talk about Scotland in public because others were tiring of hearing about it (maybe you, lovely blog readers?). So I’m going to try. I’m going to try to notice what is here. For what is back there, there will be posts of nostalgia. But here we are in the city. There is something about the pace of this city, about the people that is already intriguing. I heard a guy waiting for a subway telling a stranger he walked 35-45 miles a day. Really?

I will take pictures soon, because our apartment, although furniture-less, is a haven, and I love it in here. Our neighborhood feels like coming home compared to the height of Manhattan. For now, right here, we have sun. We have 46 choices of hangers, we have an organic grocer around the block, and we have each other. Someday this will feel as homey as bonnie Scotland (oops! I said it!). For today, what we have is far more than we need, far more than we deserve, far better than we could have imagined. Howdy, NYC!

(Coming soon: photos of the rest of our last Europe gallivant!)