Keep Calm and Bake a Pie. (So lame, I know. Please forgive me.)

The red house looks so small under the apple tree that hovers over it, pushing blossoms open violently and abundantly. The sight of the apple tree in bloom would almost be enough to convince me to stay here.

We will stay here.

But there are other reasons beyond the sight of the largest apple tree that I've ever seen. The garden, the trees and berry bushes, the large farmhouse kitchen, which is my favorite part of the house. And Indiana has gotten so healthy, she doesn't need the medicine anymore she took since she was 6 months old. I haven't thrown up in a few weeks, since we got rid of all the old stuff and started to recuperate. I still get dizzy spells and today I collapsed again. I'm not sure that the neurological problems will ever all go away. Anyway, we know that this house is safe and healthy, having lived here for almost two months now.

Although we will be a little farther from sister's family than I'd like (still only one hour's drive away) we will be closer to my brother and his wife. Kind of in-between them, so we can see both of them often, I hope. We will rent the house from my dad for some time, and later when he needs the money from the house, we will either buy it, or if we decide we do not want to stay in this town, we will move on. I love the house and the garden, but I have been hesitant about moving back to the town I grew up in. This way we can try it out without committing to anything right now. Those of you who are now worried about my father, who has so kindly let us live here, and is now giving the whole house to us, I assure you that my dad is quite happily planning to  move in with his lady friend. She is very nice and we hope that they will visit us often! And I am so very grateful to my dad for everything. 

It has been an extremely stressful time, but the worst is over now that we have finally made a decision about what we should do. We have a place to settle in.

Funnily, it comes with all the usual trappings of a single-family house. Not only fully furnished, but I think my dad will leave most of the other stuff here too. He will probably just take his clothes and important personal stuff with him. The house was decorated by my mom, and there is still a lot of her stuff here. There is lots of both useful and useless (to us) stuff. There is a whole antique cupboard full of craft stuff like fabric remnants, that even my mom was not likely to ever use up. There are more dishes that we ever had before, and just... stuff. The house is not cluttered by any means, and what clutter there is, is neatly hidden in closets. There are not very many knick-knacks. To any regular person it is quite simple, actually. But you know, to people like us... it's still too much. There is also more decorative stuff than I'd like. I just dusted here and I know some of the stuff will have to go. I never minded the stuff before, of course not, as it was not my house. But as soon as I was living here, my mind started to identify clutter here and there and I'm itching to pare down a bit  and organize everything...  Funny how that works.

Oh, and all those paintings from my art school time, hanging on the walls! I don't want to be looking at them every day, no way. They are the first to go. 

To be honest, I'm not sure whether I'm dreading or looking forward to de-cluttering and organizing the house.  Maybe a little bit of both. I will try to do it slowly and not get obsessed about getting everything  done right away. 

Here is a peek into the house as it is now.
We have planted carrots and tiny oak and maple trees, made rhubarb and strawberry pie (the strawberries are last of the frozen ones from last summer), fixed the compost, sewn new linen sheets, weeded and raked, breathed in fresh air. 

My brother got married and his wife's family came from Thailand. When we asked them what was most special about Finland to them, there was an instant reply: "Fresh air".

I do enjoy it so, with every deep breath. After living in a smoggy mega city or a toxic mold apartment one remembers how great fresh air is.

I have such a pretty view from my window as I'm typing this, it's raining and the water is dripping from the gnarly branches, green leaves and pink and white buds of the tree that grows behind the house. In  a moment I will put on my wellingtons and go out and just breathe. The air is never as fresh as after a storm.