I have been on a little sabbatical for a few months.

Since we visited last, my clan moved from the Half Acre Wood. Our little world is a little more sterile and severe today. Don’t get me wrong, suburbia has its advantages. Those pesky Dandelions are a distant memory after the scorched earth of new construction. The new sod stands in formation ready to beat back nature. We traded our easily traversed Leyland Cypress and Razzledazzle bushes for a six-foot privacy fence. For our trouble, we have met precisely two of our new neighbors. One of those meetings was about, you guessed it, our fence.

To be sure, however, a few of our neighbors have not yet been built.

Our little cul-de-sac only really has two houses with families installed. Our Saturday and Sunday mornings are still filled with hammer blows, mixing and sawing. We are a work in progress. We had a little note from the Homeowners Association in our mailbox one day but, no one has come by to welcome us. Jennifer tells me there will be more people moving around in the summer.

I am looking forward to summer.

After being invited for left-overs at my mother-in-laws last night, we drove by the Half Acre Wood. See, Leslie’s left-overs are better than most first-cooked meals. Fried Okra, Limas, Roast… well, I bet you can taste my picture. Being two blocks away from your Mother-In-Law has its advantages. Being six miles away is, well, slimming. We had taken Jennifer’s car so she forced me to ride by the Half Acre Wood. It was my first time since I saw it in the rear view mirror of the U-Haul. I saw the double four-foot Oaks with Rach’s tree house first. The tree house was still in-tact but, the new owner, a single guy, had taken down the swings. I saw the Cedar with the dog grave yard next. Then the garden shed came into view.

I miss the Half Acre Wood.

I guess new adventures are on the way. I think our new abode needs a name. I will work on that. Home is such a loaded word. Home is where Rach’s height and date is written on the pantry door. Home is where the coffee pot has stained the counter. Home is where a piece of hardwood creaks and should be avoided before everybody wakes. Home is where the best dog ever, period, … is buried, until the next best dog is.