After a busy weekend of packing and moving, we are in a new house, and for the first time ever, its completely ours. I walked out of our old house yesterday, after everything had been packed up and moved out. I wandered past different rooms, with the memories of moments shared, and the arrangement of furniture all fresh in my mind. This afternoon we hand in the keys to that house, and I won't be allowed to enter those doors, uninvited again. It really bewilders me the way houses are these shells of our memories and exisitence. I've moved house enough times to be familiar with the process, but it really caught me off guard yesterday as I thought about the way a building becomes a place where we forge and fashion our lives, and yet it becomes almost void when the people are gone, and no possessions remain. And we're ready to let go of it so easily. We've moved into our new house with so much excitement, setting up the rooms, filling them with our belongings, and as simply as that, we live here now.