from bricks to sticks: engagements, roosters, and other life changing experiences.

WHOOPS! Way to disappear for two months, me. I guess it's safe to say that I got swept up in 'life', which is absolutely fine, because frankly, life is good!

So, there have been a few 'developments' since I went on my blog hiatus. First and foremost: Garret and I are engaged! We were sitting in the living room by the fire when he proposed, and then he gave me the very same engagement ring that my grandfather gave to my grandmother many years ago. Words cannot describe how much it all means to me. For that significant moment in Garret and I taking the next step in becoming a family ourselves to involve something as special as my grandmother's engagement ring... well, suffice it to say that even the writer in me can't figure out a way to explain how special it all is and how happy I am to have such an amazing family - both in the family I was born with and the family I have found along my journey.

This time of year also has me feeling grateful and inspired for a few reasons. First, April 9 marked the seven year anniversary of Garret and I deciding to date. Seven years! We've had quite an adventure together so far. Secondly, at this very time last year, we went on a cruise in celebration of our sixth anniversary. We went to Bermuda, and were docked there for a day and a half. In a lot of ways, I think Bermuda was the fork in the road that lead us to living in VT.

We docked near the old Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda, and therein found ourselves amidst historical buildings, a tiny beach, and local eateries. The particular part of Bermuda we were in wasn't very touristy, but rather a little punctuation mark on the edge of an island. There was a time when it was bustling, but today it's mostly where cruise ships dock. Most people had planned day excursions through the cruise line to get to the more 'fabulous' parts of Bermuda. We hadn't done that, and since we had never seen any of Bermuda, we were content to stay in the vicinity of we where were.

We took a leisurely walk around. I'm always fascinated, in a new place, with the people that live there, so I was mostly excited to peek into car garages or pharmacies, to see what kind of people called this nice little area home. At one point, on a little quiet side street by what seemed to be an office, a rooster walked by. I had never seen a rooster, let alone seen a rooster walk by leisurely on a street. I don't know how to really say this how I mean it, but: that rooster opened my eyes. It was this moment of, "Wow, there are people who live here who see roosters walk by sometimes. That's their day to day." I had been living in Brooklyn, which being in New York City has a sort of "Center of the Universe" feel to it. But here we were somewhere else entirely, on this quiet street, with a rooster. It wasn't a tourist spot nor was it even anywhere at all - it was a side street between two other quiet streets. In a sense, it was there just for us. And I suddenly knew that not only were there other places that you could live in, but that there were other day to day experiences that you can have. Yes, the walk I'd take every morning from my apartment to the subway and then the subway to my office was lovely. But was there somewhere else that I was missing out on? Were there roosters wandering somewhere for me?

On that walk, we kept noticing a wall that was architecturally gorgeous in this little town we were in. Then we noticed someone walking on it. We followed the wall, and it brought us to a gate for the Bermuda Maritime Museum. Entry was $5. There was a woman standing at the gate collecting money. We gave her $10, and she said "Have a good day," and we were in. In New York City, a museum is a bustling train station of artifacts and viewers. Here, it was a sprawling land that was once a citadel. There were no guards. We were free to walk into and around the old Commissioner's House. We were free to explore the grounds. We came upon a herd of sheep, who we walked up to and gazed at. A lot of awesome things were ours to discover.

Though nothing that happened that day was outwardly monumental enough for us to have seen the significance in it as it was unfolding, something shifted in us that day in Bermuda. It was like we grew this mutual curiosity with what else we could uncover were we to just keep our eyes open on little side streets.

That Thursday, we docked back in New York. We had to drive up to Albany to get Murgy, who was staying with my mom during our cruise. While there, still in the mind space of leisure and seeing new things, we decided to take a drive out to Vermont to see what it was like.

We had breakfast in a diner in Bennington, and took a stroll around the main street there. It was nice, and so was the weather, so we decided to drive another 38 miles to Brattleboro. Garret had read about Brattleboro in an article that said it was a great place for artists. My grandfather was from there, but that was all that I knew of it. The drive took us through the Green Mountain National Forest, and through Wilmington, and down the Molly Stark Highway which winds gorgeously. Eventually, we landed in Brattleboro, and again a spark lit up in each of us. We went from shop to shop with wide eyes, feeling immediately comfortable and happy and inspired. Our spirits were lifted in this way that I couldn't put my finger on, but I loved. The thing was, it wasn't that we were unhappy before we got there - it's just, the place brought out something in us that was light and adventurous and... different. Good different.

As we drove back to Albany that afternoon, Garret fell asleep. So, he was quiet, and the radio wasn't on, either. It was just silent. My car windows were down and as I made my way back through the winding road, the town of Wilmington, and the national forest, I realized that I was more happy and at peace than I'd felt myself be in a long time.

In a matter of days we'd seen a rooster on a street, explored an old citadel, sailed across the ocean, and explored a new town in Vermont - a state we'd never even been to. Though none of the experiences felt singularly life altering, I really think it was the culmination of all of it that created in us a realization that Brooklyn's great and wonderful, but maybe it's not the center of the universe. Maybe there were things to discover elsewhere. Amidst trees and new sights and new air. Maybe the day to day somewhere else wouldn't be better or worse than Brooklyn, but it'd be different, and it was worth exploring.