It's been nearly two years since my somewhat spur-of-the-moment move to Vermont.
I called many places home during my 20s, from Florida to Connecticut. But I didn't really mean it. Like many 20-somethings, I was searching for myself, my dream job, on occasion my dream man, but never really getting it together.
Only now do I feel at home. Even when the temperature has plummeted well below zero and the pipes freeze. Even when it takes endless hours to shovel the driveway. And, yes, even when I quit the job that originally brought me here because I realize it's not what it's cracked up to be.
It's been non-stop nesting since January 2009. When work doesn't get in the way, I bake. Then bake some more. Then maybe make dinner. And bake again. I will talk about all of this earth-shattering stuff here, on my blog, a diary of sorts giving voice to my Vermont life, scraps and all. If you like to bake, if you like to cook, if you like to eat, if you like snow, if you like tales of folks blindly starting over in life in their 30s, I hope you will stick around and let me know what you think, what you bake, what you cook for those you love, what model shovel you have. I really want to know.